Smoke & Mirrors
by latessitrice
Summary: His captors think him defeated, but even Odin doesn't know the secrets Loki holds. Before long, he'll be free, events set in motion by Frigga's best intentions and Loki's worst instincts. He's seen his future, and nothing is going to stop him from stealing it.
1. Prologue

**This is a new full-length tasertricks story I've been working on. I originally wasn't going to post until I had a stockpile of chapters but I decided to go ahead with the few I have to light a fire under my arse and force me to keep writing. Unlike Vegas, I know exactly what's going to happen, so updates should be regular-2 weeks apart at most.**

**The prologue was written long before the Thor 2 trailer came out, so the whole thing is AU, but especially the type of cell Loki is being held in.**

* * *

**Prologue**

It seemed to Loki that inside this cell there existed a perfect stillness. Without windows, time did not move forward, day and night equal to each other. No sounds filtered through from from the outside world to come disturb him; not even the shuffle of rats or drip of water down the dank walls. He was suspended, manacled to the wall, his whole world reduced to one dark corner of a forsaken cell.

At first he welcomed the stillness after the chaos he'd left behind—he'd been running and fighting for months, and even he needed time to recuperate. But when he was healed and time had become important to him again, the utter silence rankled him, urged him to pace. Yet he couldn't even rise to his feet, shackled tightly in place, and he couldn't yell or outwardly make his frustration known because the silver gag still gripped the lower half of his face.

There was little to fill his time with, no outlet for the dissatisfaction racking him. He hated being pinned down here, knowing the leader of the Chitauri would make good on his threat and hunt Loki down. He wasn't safe. He needed to be free, with all his magic available to him, ready for the oncoming war. Not that Loki didn't have plans for the future—plans that had nothing to do with rotting for eternity in this cell. He had secrets even the Allfather didn't see and he was weaving a path for himself out of them as he waited. For what, he wasn't quite sure.

Being caged thus wasn't his only frustration. It had been an age since he'd found release by anything other than his own hand, and he'd reached the point long before his failed conquest of Midgard where he refused to sink to that anymore. It kept him on edge, a good edge, sharp to the failings of others and to his own, his guard always up. His current circumstances meant he never had a single moment's privacy, Heimdall charged to watch Loki despite the tailor-made gaol. He certainly wasn't going to give Heimdall, or any of his jailers, that kind of show. If he was miserable, and hungry, and weary, and itching for action of any kind then it would only spur him onto greater things.

He had visitors to break up the tedium—two, in particular. The first was Thor, stern and disappointed, an echo of the Allfather's own thunder. When reproaching Loki failed, he turned to stories of their childhood, trying to appeal to their brotherly bond, unaware—or unwilling to acknowledge—how shrouded in bitterness those memories were. Thor wanted Loki's redemption more than Loki himself did. That was one of the caveats of his sentence: if Loki were to show remorse, true remorse, for his actions then he would be released. Loki didn't regret anything he'd done and knew he wouldn't be leaving the cell at the behest of Thor or the Allfather.

The other visitor was his mother.

Frigga was the one piece of warmth he still held in his chest, had always held even during his exile. Of her, he remembered motherly embraces and kind words. Any reproach he'd gained as a child from her, she'd given just as freely to Thor. She might not be his blood, but she was still his mother, more deserving of the title than his usurper of a father.

The disappointment in her gaze had faded since his initial return to Asgard, replaced with a hope Loki couldn't find within himself. No doubt she wanted him to repent, to agree to return to Thor's shadow and be satisfied with living that life. He could never abide such a thing. Even so, the fact that she still came as often as she could, when he hadn't seen the Allfather since his sentencing, kept his warmth for her alive. He kept it quiet, though, aware that any chink in his armour could and would be used against him. For the Allfather's benefit, he built his walls as high as they would go. He imagined Frigga knew—indeed, hoped she did—because despite his terse demeanour and often callous silence, she always came back, ever burdened with love. She asked for the gag to be removed in her presence so he could speak to her. She didn't fear him, smoothing his hair, the lines on his face, the bruises left by the mask. She brought ointments and soothed his cracked skin, cleaned him, looked after him, just as she had when he was a child and got caught in a fight Thor started and couldn't finish.

When he heard the locks click free, Loki knew it would be her before the door opened. Thor had been only the day before and left in terse defeat. She carried only a looking glass, no bigger than a dinner plate. The mirror was a new addition to her collection of accoutrements, and her hope seemed ever brighter today. Loki glanced at the sheet of glass and turned his gaze back to the wall.

"I've brought something I believe will interest you," she said, coming to her knees before him as she always did, despite the fact her fine gown would grow filthy on the cell floor. He glanced at her briefly, gave his best impression of nonchalance and looked away again, examining the brickwork. He'd have preferred her to come armed with bowl and cloth. His hair was slick with grease against his crown and neck, and he wanted the sensation gone.

"I've been working on this since you came home," she continued as if he had expressed interest in her words. Perhaps she read him too well. Perhaps her hope shone bright enough to eclipse his indifference. "It's a way for me to share my gift—a very small part of my gift—with you. To show you that this is not all that fate intends for you."

That caught his attention, and he stared fiercely at the glass resting in her lap, his hand forming a fist though he couldn't reach to snatch it away. He'd never heard of such a thing before; Frigga's sight was hers alone, not even shared with the Allfather. What had she seen of Loki that bade her work such an impossible piece of magic?

She tipped his face towards her with gentle hands. "It's but a brief thing, caught in the looking glass. Do you wish to see?"

The word almost died in his throat, so long since he'd spoken, even longer since he'd attempted civility. "Please."

"Very well." She lifted the glass and he held his breath, waiting for her to pass the flame of hope onto him. Had she seen him ascending a throne? Did she see him being acclaimed over Thor for some deed he'd performed? In the future, would people finally realise he was the better strategist, better ruler, better brother? The image in the glass flickered by, clear as his own reflection, but making no sense. It looped around when it reached its end after mere seconds, repeating from the beginning. Only on the fourth showing did it become clear to Loki what he was witnessing.

He turned his face away with a snarl. "Sentimentality. Small, petty things. You offer me a hint of future glory and deliver this?" He shut his eyes and leaned his head against the wall, indicating the visitation was over. In time, he heard his mother leave without another word. She took the mirror with her, and that he came to regret it as the hours ticked by. He wanted to study the magic involved, if nothing else. Was it a true fragment of his future, or a trick dreamed up by her foolish side?

But when she returned the next day, glass in hand, he devoured the image eagerly, watching it replay for a full turn of the hourglass. Frigga patiently waited for him to grow weary of it. He'd dreamed of it overnight, it's true meaning growing clear to him.

"What you've seen can't be achieved by force," she warned him when he finally allowed her to set the mirror down. "It has to be earned—gained with trust, not with tricks and threats."

He ignored her advice, because he wouldn't need tricks or force to get what he'd seen—that would be the easiest part. One small part of a much bigger plan, already elaborated beyond its meagre beginnings of a few days ago. He'd have everything he wanted and he had his dear mother to thank for encouraging him to go after it.

Now there was just the small matter of escaping this cell and the Allfather's gaze to deal with.

* * *

**Thanks to my usual betas, Twiggy, Lindsay and Rhi.**


	2. Public Service Broadcast

**Here be'eth chapter two. I also fixed a typo in the summary *headdesk*. I may not always be great at responding to reviews but I appreciate them all - I'm just trying to focus on getting writing done!**

**From here-on-out, we're in Darcy's POV.**

* * *

**Chapter One: Public Service Broadcast**

_We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you an urgent news broadcast._

Darcy Lewis glanced up from the stitches she'd been squinting at to frown at the TV. She only had it turned on for the background noise—it provided a little company in her tiny Brooklyn apartment. She didn't pay much attention, but those words dragged her back to the real world. They couldn't herald anything good.

She waited, like she expected everyone who'd just heard the words were, and cursed under her breath when she realised she'd lost count of her stitches. Now she'd have to unpick and reknit the row. Silence rang and the screen flickered blue before an empty podium filled it. The podium stood on a stage that looked suspiciously like the one the President normally gave press conferences from.

After a pause, a middle-aged woman with an immaculate twin-set and chignon stepped onto the stage, heading for the microphone. Text scrolled across the bottom of the screen, announcing her as _Violet Mayhew, Head of the World Security Counci_l.

"Please don't be world war three," Darcy muttered to herself.

"Just over a year ago," Mayhew began, "the city of New York, where I now stand, suffered the worst catastrophe in its history following the invasion of an alien race." Her delivery was flat, robotic. Like she didn't believe what she was saying. "Their invasion was halted and the city—the entire Earth—was saved from destruction at their hands."

Darcy hadn't been here at the time, but she'd watched the devastation on a TV back in New Mexico. Even when she arrived in New York three months ago, the damage was still evident in places. Hell, it'd been the one of the most surreal points of her life, watching the guy she'd once tasered stop the invasion with his superhero friends. Only slightly less surreal than the time his brother had tried to destroy the town she was living in, but infinitely more scary when she'd realised he was the one leading the invasion. She'd seen the same CCTV stills as everyone else, and he'd looked like he was enjoying himself far too much.

"It has now come to our attention," Mayhew continued, "that our planet is still at risk. We cannot stand alone against the forces that would seek to attack us if they could. We must unite, every country, every nation, as one. We must come together under one leadership…" She paused, took a deep breath. "The leadership of a protector. An emperor."

There had to be a reaction from the crowd, but they were mute save for the rhythmic clicking of camera shutters.

Darcy glanced down at the glass of Coca-Cola she'd been drinking, trying to remember when she'd accidentally spiked it with hallucinogenics. There was no way the head of the World Security Council just announced the Earth needed an emperor. But this still didn't rank as the strangest day of her life. If Darcy wasn't high, then Mayhew was making this speech under duress.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you our noble protector…his exalted highness, Loki of Asgard."

From behind a curtain a tall figure emerged, black-haired and cloaked in armour—several cows' worth of black leather—heavy boots pounding on the floor as he stalked up to the podium. His hair was longer than it had been in the photos from his last jaunt to Earth, now falling around his shoulders. It was choppy, looking more like crow's feathers than real hair at the ends. His skin wasn't just pale, but pallid, bloodless, and the armour was battered and tarnished. It was impressive—intimidating—and Darcy knew this was the effect he wanted to have. In his gloved hands he carried a glowing blue box, its surface patterned with runes and emanating an eerie light.

She'd never properly seen his face before—rude, when you considered he'd tried to kill her once—and if it weren't for the expression on his face, she might have called him handsome, but pulse-racing fear overrode any other reaction she might have felt.

"Thank you for your introduction," he began, and his voice shocked Darcy. He sounded genuinely courteous, and his accent was pure, crisp upper-class English. She'd been expecting more inflection, more evidence that he wasn't of this world, but she'd met people who spoke in that accent. He looked so different to his brother but sounded so alike. "I graciously accept the role of Emperor and the burden that befalls me in doing so." He set the box down on the podium and stared directly into the camera. His eyes glittered, taking on the same blue glow, and Darcy got a glimpse of the maniac who'd wreaked havoc the last time around. Not so like his brother, then.

She realised with a start that Mayhew was now on her knees beside Loki, head bowed towards him. Darcy couldn't see her face, but her posture suggested she was not happy at being there.

"Some of you may be wondering why you should accept me as your lord and ruler. You may have heard stories about me before, whether ancient or much more recent. Alas, those stories have all come from those who would seek to diminish me, and you must learn to take only my own words as the truth. Further, you are all used to your apparent freedom, or subjugation at the hands of your fellow man. I am not like other men. I am a god—older than any nation and far more powerful than any man has ever been or ever will be. To demonstrate this to you, I conducted an experiment yesterday."

The screen changed to an idyllic atoll—Darcy guessed somewhere in the Pacific. The sand was white, the ocean turquoise, and palm trees swayed in the breeze. It was travel porn. "The island of Eloau yesterday," Loki said. His voice really was soothing, when you couldn't see his face. "And how it is today."

An iceberg came onto the screen, jutting out of azure waters. "No one lives on Eloau, because I do have it in me to be merciful. I have not yet wastefully killed any of you to prove a point. But you see, my ancestors caused ice ages here in this realm, and I have the same ability. That may be one small island, but make no mistake, I can do the same to any country that defies my rule. You either accept me as your ruler, or an endless winter will return." The camera cut back to Loki, a manic smile on his face, and Darcy shivered at the sight.

The screen went black, more words scrolling up. _You will await further instructions from your Emperor. In the meantime, please go about your daily business as usual._

Knitting abandoned, Darcy decided it was in her best interests to get to Stark Tower, and any sanctuary SHIELD could provide, as fast as she could.


	3. Tenuous Link

**A/N: You might all be in luck - my desktop computer suffered massive hard drive failure last Monday ( :'( ) and until I can afford to get it fixed, I'm on my laptop. Despite still having ample internet access, it seems to be forcing me to write. You almost got the next chapter instead of this one because I'd forgotten I hadn't posted this yet.**

**Although this is AU, it does follow the events of Iron Man 3, and there are going to be a few references to that in the story, although nothing that would make it difficult to follow if you haven't seen it.**

* * *

**Chapter Two: Tenuous Link**

Darcy's logic was simple: her tenuous link to Thor meant she might be a target. Loki didn't strike her as the kind of person to let a grudge go. His return to Earth proved that.

While a part of her hoped that maybe she was so far down on everyone's radar he wouldn't even know who she was—and she never thought she'd be praying for insignificance—she'd be in SHIELD's files, and it was only a matter of time before Loki got to them. If he hadn't already. Not only was she connected to Thor, even though she'd never seen him again after Puerte Antigua got smashed, but now she was working for Tony Stark. Loki wasn't a fan of his either. While she didn't hold any significance for either man, Loki might be so hellbent on revenge that tenuous links were good enough.

She expected chaos on the subway but received quietness instead. In fact, it was almost deserted. It gave her time to mourn the loss of her taser, left behind in New Mexico at SHIELD's insistence. She wouldn't be able to take it into Stark Tower, but that was safe ground anyway. She needed it if goons came for her on the street (if there was one thing she was sure of, it was that she was too far down the totem pole for Loki to come for her himself).

More people lingered above ground when she emerged in Manhattan, but the quiet remained. The broadcast played on a loop on TVs and electronic billboards, on cellphones and tablets. Life had temporarily come to a standstill, everyone remembering the frozen island and waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was clear their new emperor was crazy and it wouldn't take much to make him flip.

Her role, in the grand scheme of things, wasn't that important. She was the assistant of the assistant's assistant to Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries. She barely even interacted with Pepper, never mind Tony Stark, who she'd met a grand total of once. It wasn't the most fulfilling of jobs but it kept her under SHIELD's watchful eye, dangling the carrot of work in Washington in front of her to keep her compliant.

Darcy retrieved her security pass from her bag and entered the vast glass-and-steel expanse of the Stark Tower reception. No one paid her any attention as she swiped herself through the barriers, letting the machine scan her fingerprint, since everyone was so focused on the HD screen behind the desk. She didn't know what they hoped to learn from the looped newsreel. People who knew nothing would be paraded as experts and provide empty analysis of the situation; reporters would analyse the broadcast from every possible angle; nothing would change.

The ride in the elevator was hushed too, so Darcy was surprised by the calamity when the doors slid open. It was Saturday but the office was full, a cacophony created by everyone talking at once, printers working at full speed and the frantic clack of keyboards. A lanky girl ran towards her with a stack of documents in her hand.

"Darcy! Am I happy to see you!"

"What's going on, Bridge?"

"You mean apart from the complete restructuring of the company?" Bridget led her to one of partitioned offices off to the side. Bridget was technically Darcy's boss, though they were nearly the same age and Bridget was the closest thing Darcy had to a friend in New York. "Because of Mr Stark's history with our new emperor…can I use his name? Are we supposed to call him His Highness or something? Can he _hear_ us? What if he's cast a spell that can hear us whenever we say his name and we're snatched away to be punished…"

"Calm down, Bridge. That was Voldemort. Until he issues some sort of decree, I think we're okay to call him Loki."

Bridget looked dubious but continued. "Well, Mr Stark helped defeat Loki the last time he tried to take over the world, so he's realised Stark Industries is probably going to become a target for revenge. We're transferring it all legally into the ownership of this complex chain of holding companies that will still ultimately give Mr Stark and Ms Potts control of the company. We're changing the name too. Hopefully that will make Loki less likely to come after us—although Mr Stark took a lot of persuading about the name change."

"What's the name changing to?"

"Global Energy Industries."

"Catchy."

"It was the best we could come up with at short notice. I think if the situation changes anytime soon, the name will change back. The plan is to say it was a rebranding exercise that failed."

"So I guess Mr Stark is hoping the situation is going to change…like, maybe he's planning to get involved?" Darcy asked, cutting off Bridget's babbling.

Bridget glanced around. "I wish I was in the loop. But he doesn't like being forced to do things by other people, so I'd guess so."

That was good news. The Avengers had defeated Loki once. He didn't even have an alien army with him this time, it would be a piece of cake to do it again.

Static fizzed up from the desk and Bridget started, scrabbling for a walkie-talkie. "We're going old school," she explained to Darcy. "It makes it harder to tap." She pressed a button down and speech buzzed out of the speaker.

"_Some_…crackle…_upstairs_…crackle…_NOW_."

Darcy vaguely recognised the male voice, though it was so distorted she couldn't place it. Bridget pressed another button and replied. "Be right there." She stuffed the walkie-talkie into her pocket and shuffled together an armful of folders. "Can you carry these?" Darcy nodded and Bridget shoved them at her before gathering a pile for herself. "We have to take these up to Mr Stark before he blows a gasket."

"Wait—that was Tony Stark?"

Bridget led her to the elevator and called it with her elbow. "Pepper insisted he had to be involved in this. He has to sign for all these changes, but I think she needs him nearby for comfort too. After all that stuff that happened a few months ago…"

Darcy remembered headlines of Stark's Malibu home exploding spectacularly and realised she didn't exactly blame Pepper. The ride in the elevator was hushed, giving Darcy a few moments to ponder. She was only in this situation because of Thor, but Loki had made no mention of his whereabouts. She knew, by Jane letting things slip when she really shouldn't have, that the Bifrost was nowhere near repaired, but that hadn't stopped Thor getting here the last time Loki tried to takeover.

Given she was thinking about members of the Avengers meant she should have less surprised when the elevator doors slid open to reveal Captain America sat across a conference table from Tony Stark, watching him bat a digital ping-pong ball back and forth.

"Tony," Pepper snapped, "must you—" She cut off when she saw them step out and smiled, though it didn't hide how frazzled she was. "Are those the files?"

"This is them," Bridget replied. Darcy trailed her across to the table, dumping her pile down before her arms gave out. She thought she managed to smile at the two men but figured it probably came out as more of a mad leer.

"Bridget, this is Steve Rogers," Pepper said by way of introduction. Steve gave them both a polite nod. "And this is…"

"I'm Darcy. I'm Bridget's assistant," she said, thanking all her stars that she managed to do it without making an idiot of herself. "I know Thor." Or maybe not.

"Do you really?" Tony asked. "Do you have him on speed dial? Because that would be really helpful."

"Well, I haven't actually seen him in, like, two years, but he's got this thing going with my ex-boss-"

"You know Dr Foster?" Pepper asked. Darcy nodded. "I guess that's how you got your SHIELD clearance."

"Wait—she has clearance?" Tony protested. "They won't give me clearance!"

"They revoked it. For good reason," Pepper replied. "Anyway, we're good to talk in front of them. Bridget, I need you two to sort these documents into what we need to destroy or mail."

Darcy found herself doing the eager-puppy nod again, sinking into a chair two seats down from _Captain-freaking-America_.

"So have you heard from them at all?" Pepper prompted Steve, returning to whatever conversation they'd been involved in.

"Natasha and Clint are on their way back to the safe house," Steve began, "with their mission successfully completed. SHIELD are searching for them but Natasha's arranged decoys out of state." Darcy wasn't sure who he was talking about, but suddenly this sounded juicy. "Fury is already in custody—"

"Fury's in custody?" she asked, curiosity overruling any shyness she might have felt around the others. "_Why?"_ She couldn't imagine being able to subdue the Director, who she'd met a total of two times and been scared witless of.

"Because Loki wants him there. Without Fury, SHIELD is rudderless. A puppet has been put in his place, and right now it's in all our interests if we stay out of SHIELD's hands."

Tony grinned widely. "You broke rank."

"Tony," Pepper admonished.

"No, it's good to see the little soldier boy breaking the rules."

"With respect, I'm doing what I'm supposed to. I'm protecting America. I can't do that from within SHIELD anymore. What about you? Can you help?"

"It'll take me a few hours to build myself a new suit, but sure. We can all have one, it'll be fun."

A new voice broke in over head, in a pleasant British accent. "Unfortunately, sir, a few hours is no longer an option. SHIELD operatives and US military officers are approaching Stark Tower and escape will be cut off within twenty minutes."

"Yeah, thanks for the warning, JARVIS. You were supposed to let me know as soon as they left the base!"

"Closing our link with SHIELD's servers to ensure they had no way of accessing ours meant we couldn't access theirs either."

"Excuses." Tony gestured across the room and a fire burst to life—luckily, in what appeared to be a fireplace. "Since we don't have time to shred the files." Everyone rose and grabbed an armful of the 'Destroy' pile, heaving them over to the flames. As they worked Pepper kept a constant stream of instructions up to Bridget.

"Make sure these are locked away when you've copied them all—if you need a reminder about any of this, just ask JARVIS—"

"Come on, Pepper." Tony was waiting for her beside the elevator. "We gotta go."

"I'll follow you down."

"What? No. Get in here."

"I have to make sure everything's in order before I leave. I can't just abandon the company, Tony. People rely on us. I'll be five minutes."

"Um…shouldn't we all be evacuating the building?" Darcy asked.

"You're a civilian," the captain said. "You aren't in any danger from SHIELD operatives." He almost seemed to believe what he was saying.

"Pepper, you can leave it to these two, they're perfectly capable—" Tony implored.

"JARVIS," Pepper said, and it seemed to be an order, because the elevator doors slid shut. The last Darcy saw of Tony was him diving for the hold button, but it was too late. "Don't let that elevator come back up here. Tell Tony I'll meet him at the bottom."

Darcy was relieved to turn to Bridget and realised she was white-knuckled too. She couldn't seem to shake a background of white noise in her head, which she thought was probably fear.

"We should take these down,"Pepper instructed, hoisting up one of the piles of documents.

Bridget tucked the walkie-talkie back into her pocket and cast a despondent glance at the elevator. "Guess we're going to have to take the stairs".

Luckily, they only had to slog down three flights before reaching a floor which had an elevator they could use. Bridget pressed for the floor her office was on, but they'd only been moving for a few seconds before it came to an abrupt halt.

"What the—"

"Darcy," Bridget whispered as the lights dimmed, "did I ever mention my fear of getting trapped in one of these?"

"Right there with you."

Pepper tensed in front of them, but nothing happened for a few seconds. "JARVIS..?" The computer remained silent.

_My fondest greetings to the inhabitants of Stark Tower._ The voice crackled over the speakers, and Darcy grabbed for both Bridget and Pepper. She recognised that voice. _This is your emperor speaking, issuing his first edict. All members of the group who call themselves The Avengers must surrender themselves immediately to me. Failure to do so will be classed as high treason, punishable by death upon capture. Anyone who aids and abets an Avenger in evading capture will also be considered guilty of treason. You have fifteen minutes to make your presence known in the penthouse of the tower. All civilians should make their way outside for questioning._

The elevator started moving again, but none of them seemed eager to let go of each other.

"Oh crap," Darcy muttered. "Do you think they'll make it away?"

"Of course," Pepper said, a little too brightly. "They thought this would happen. They have an escape plan. So long as they're gone, we'll all be fine. The soldiers won't care about us."

"Yeah. Sure." Inwardly, Darcy wasn't totally convinced, but the captain was a soldier, just like the others on their way. Loki becoming emperor didn't suddenly turn all the soldiers who obeyed him evil. They had jobs to do, orders to follow. Families to fear for if they disobeyed.

"But if they think you know where Tony is…" Bridget began.

"I'm a lot harder to hurt than they think I am," Pepper reassured her.

Finally, the doors opened to the floor they needed. It was empty, computers left running and papers scattered where people had bolted. Darcy could still hear the chaos of people fleeing down the stairwells.

"Wow," Darcy said. "They even left their Starbucks behind."

Static sputtered from Bridget's pocket and she yipped. Darcy didn't feel great about the situation, but it was obvious Bridget wasn't holding down well. She pulled the walkie-talkie out with shaking hands and squeaked into it.

"Uh…Bridget?" Tony snapped. "Is Pepper on her way down here? Because she needs to be on her way down here."

Pepper took the device and turned it off.

"Who's looking after Milo, Bridge?" Darcy asked. Milo was her friend's toddler son.

"My mom has him for the afternoon."

"Maybe it's best you get out of here. If it's about to get chaotic, you don't want to be here."

Bridget shook her head. "No, there's work to be done."

"It's fine. I'll stay behind to finish it. Me and SHIELD are old buddies."

Pepper took in Bridget's ashen face. "Bridget, if you leave now, you have plausible deniability. You wait any longer and they're going to know you helped."

"But what about—"

"Just go!" Darcy said. Bridget nodded and span on her heel, the clack of her heels on the stairs echoing up behind her. "You should go too," she told Pepper, "before Tony comes back to search for you."

"And what about you?" Pepper asked. "You came here for a reason, didn't you?"

Darcy shrugged. "Loki terrifies me."

"And you think he might hurt you because you're friends with Thor?"

"Well, he didn't ask The-Avengers-and-Darcy-Lewis to make themselves known, so I think he's settling bigger scores first."

"Okay." Pepper seemed to consider this for a moment, making a decision. "I need you to come with me. Someone has to shut JARVIS down when we leave, and you're the only trustworthy person left." She grabbed Darcy's hand and pulled her along, heading for the stairs. They set off down them, two at a time—a miracle in the heels Pepper was wearing—and Darcy only felt more uneasy with every step. She'd come to Stark Tower for sanctuary and now it looked like she was winding herself deeper into trouble. When they escaped, she'd be left behind, moved up from someone Loki _might_ have carried a grudge against to a near-guaranteed treason charge.

But. If it meant Tony and the captain escaped, they were helping Jane, and whatever she needed to do meant they couldn't be found? They were the only people left who'd be able to defend the earth. It'd be worth it.

They approached another floor and the lights dimmed, just as they had in the elevator. Darcy's skin prickled, and just before she drew level with the door to the landing, she slipped, only her grip on the railing keeping her from falling onto her ass. It was only that grip that kept her upright even then. Beneath her feet, the concrete began to melt.


	4. Escape plans

**A/N: As I'm posting this, my MP3 player has randomly thrown up a track from The Avengers soundtrack and it fits perfectly.**

**Thank you to everyone has read and reviewed/commented/liked/kudosed so far :).**

* * *

**Chapter Three: Escape plans**

Darcy had never moved faster. One hand still gripping the railing, she swung herself out of the molten concrete and onto the still-solid stairwell. She turned to find Pepper, who'd been a step behind her, already being swept away.

She didn't even yell, just grabbed Pepper's arm before she disappeared out of sight. Pepper twisted and clung on, lifting one foot out of the muck and pressing it against the wall to give herself leverage enough to land beside Darcy.

They stood for a moment watching the torrent of sludge while Darcy tried to persuade her knees to hold steady.

"Those were Louboutins," Pepper said, more exasperated than anything. Darcy looked down and realised Pepper was now barefoot, her feet caked in grey slop. Her own Chucks weren't faring much better.

"That was our escape route," Darcy pointed out. "Do you think that means..?"

"He's here? I think so."

"Okay. We're still on the fourteenth floor," she gestured to the sign above their heads, "and we have no way down. What do we do?"

"We could jump," Pepper suggested, leading Darcy out of the stairwell and across the office floor towards a window.

"You know, that was never my preferred suicide method."

"We'd survive," Pepper replied, and Darcy was wondering how that was possible without relying on divine intervention as Pepper peered between the blinds to stare down at the street. "Unfortunately, we'd be surrounded by soldiers."

"So we just wait for him to turn up and interrogate us?"

Pepper shook her head. "JARVIS?" she called.

"Yes, Ms Potts?"

"Are all surveillance systems turned off?"

"As instructed."

"So he can't see where we are?"

"No. I am, however, continuing to monitor the Tower in its entirety. Activity will only be reported to yourself or Mr Stark upon voice recognition."

"I need a status report. Stairways and elevators?"

"All stairs have been destroyed and power to all elevators has been cut off."

"What about the escape pod?"

"I'm unaware of what you refer to."

Pepper smiled. "Come on," she said to Darcy, leading her back to the stairwell-away from the windows-and past the elevator. She paused at the door to the maintenance shaft, flipping up a panel to enter a security code. When the door swung open, a tiny cupboard was revealed instead. Pepper ushered her in and shut the door behind them.

On the opposite wall, she leant against the wall-which looked like ordinary drywall to Darcy-jiggling it until it began to shift, sliding away to reveal the interior of another elevator. Sprayed across the rear wall were the words _Escape pod_, looking like the kind of graffiti a ten year would leave behind.

"Tony installed this for me when he built the Tower," Pepper explained. "He took the idea from panic rooms people have built into their homes, and this one runs all the way up to my office." It rocked a little when Darcy stepped in and she shuffled over the other side, clinging to the handrail that ran around the interior. Pepper flipped on a lamp hanging from the roof and pushed the make-shift door shut. "He had it removed from the official plans and then deleted it from JARVIS' memory. No one knows about it except us. It doesn't run on electricity, either, so no one can locate it through power usage, or cut off escape by turning off the power."

"Then how does it work?"

Pepper grabbed a lever and yanked it. "Mechanically." They began to move.

It was not as smooth as Darcy would have liked and the clanking made her sure it couldn't be as stealthy as Pepper thought it was. She also realised there was no real door, just a smooth wall of concrete rolling past behind Pepper.

Still, it seemed rude to criticise the only thing standing between her and the most evil being she'd ever heard of. For now. And speaking of which-

"You know Loki's a shapeshifter and that voice activation thing might not be as secure as you think it is?"

"That's why even JARVIS doesn't know where we're going when we leave." The elevator lurched and Pepper grabbed for the lever. "Do you really think he can shapeshift?"

"I've never seen it, but all the myths said he can." Darcy had read a lot of myths since meeting Thor. "And he can make stairs melt. I wouldn't put anything past him."

She was pretty sure that Pepper's answering expression could be translated as _We're doomed_.

The elevator lurched again, then froze. There was utter stillness for a moment, before they dropped a foot, stopped for a second, and plummeted again. Darcy screamed, past caring what Pepper thought of her. They only fell a few more feet before jerking back up and stopping for good.

The drywall in front of them read _Escape route_.

"I really need Tony to fix the braking on this thing," Pepper grumbled. There was a handle on the inside of this door, which made opening it much easier. The pair shuffled out into an identical cupboard to the one they'd come through, but this time the door out opened before Pepper could reach for it.

"Look what we have here!"

Darcy was immensely proud of herself for holding back another scream. Pepper just smacked Tony in the bicep. "How did you know we were coming down that way?"

"I heard the screaming. Figured you were using that for stealth rather than taking the stairs."

They were in a basement, but not the Tower's ordinary parking levels. It was much narrower, with a ramp leading up in one direction, but seemed to go on forever in the other. Hard to tell in the poor light. A sleek red saloon waited for them, the only car down here. She couldn't see the badges from here, but the long, low body and huge hood told her she was looking at a custom piece of machinery with enough horsepower to fly a jet and a price-tag higher than the average mansion.  
"The stairs are gone," Pepper retorted, "and so is my spine after riding in that thing."

The captain waited behind Tony. "Did you say the stairs are...gone?"

"Melted away, like a mudslide." She showed them her feet.

"We need to be going," Tony replied, suddenly business-like. "Like, twenty minutes ago. I for one don't want to be here when the Prince of Darkness realises we won't be meeting him. I think melting stairs is just his warm-up."

"How right you are."

A new voice joined the conversation, quiet but echoing around them.

If Darcy thought she was afraid before, it was nothing compared to Loki peeling himself out of the shadows, blacker than black and crossing the basement towards them. She'd been running on adrenaline until now, but it deserted her, fight or flight no longer an option. She could only stand, quaking, as he stalked around the car, and hope her own little patch of shadow kept her out of the limelight.

"I had my suspicions you would try to flee," Loki said. "And if you couldn't go up anymore," he nodded to Tony's suitless body, "you'd surely go down."

"Pepper," Tony said, "get in the car."

"Tony..."

"We don't pose a threat to you," Tony said, but Darcy was all too aware of the tension in the captain's body in front of her. He didn't have his shield, but she'd been told he could do plenty without it.

Loki gave a low chuckle. "Not anymore. Not without the fair prince to save you. You saw what I did to that island-now imagine the damage I did to my dear old brother."

"JARVIS!" Tony yelled, and the car engine roared to life. He pushed Pepper towards the rear door, opening it while she argued.

"You have to get in too!"

"I can handle this-"

"So can I!"

While Loki was distracted, Steve leapt towards him. Loki reacted too quickly, ducking away and blocking the blow meant for his face. Darcy winced as Steve was thrown onto his back, but it seemed he'd anticipated that-he pushed himself back up into a crouch and swept Loki's feet out from under him.

Darcy started backing away, wondering if it was the right time to try and disappear back upstairs. She could make the ramp, if she was quiet enough. Loki wasn't expecting her here, and would never notice that she'd gone.

"Why are _you_ driving?" Pepper yelled as Tony jumped into the driver's seat, while Steve continued to battle Loki. Both men were on their feet, Loki shifting so quickly that the captain only kept up due to his own superhuman reflexes.

"Because you're too cautious!" Tony replied, backing up the car with the rear door still hanging open. "Get in," he instructed Darcy.

Darcy froze again, the car lights flooding out her shadows and any chance she had of remaining hidden. "What?"

"We're not leaving you here," Pepper said, reaching for her. "Why else do you think I brought you all the way down?"

"But-"

Too late, she realised the fight seemed to have stopped. She turned her head, just an inch, to meet Loki's gaze. Even from across the basement his stare was intense, his grip on Steve's throat apparently forgotten.

"You," he snarled.

That got her moving, scrambling into the backseat beside Pepper and slamming the door shut. She didn't know why Loki was so focussed on her, but his murderous glare was the most blood-curdling thing she'd ever experienced. The flimsy sheet of aluminium, or whatever they made European supercars out of, wasn't going to be any match for him, but the illusion helped.

With Loki's attention elsewhere, Steve disentangled himself, only to be flung against the wall for his effort. Darcy winced as he rolled down, winded, and she continued to slide over the rear seat, putting as much distance between herself and Loki as she could.

"Steve," Tony yelled. "Whenever you're ready, grab on."

He shifted into reverse and launched the car backwards. Loki circled around, hands spread in a gesture Darcy suspected was about to unleash all hell. Behind him, Steve got to his feet, shaky but determined.

Tony floored the accelerator, and Darcy was slammed against the back of the passenger seat. Even Loki wasn't fast enough to get out of the way of whatever muscle was in Tony's engine, and a second later he was doing a backwards roll over the hood, roof and out onto the asphalt behind them. Another thud followed, and Steve's face appeared in the sunroof.

"Hold on, soldier boy," said Tony. He pressed a button, and a gate slammed behind them, a slab of steel rolling down to cut off one side of the basement from another. He didn't let up on the gas, and Darcy realised they were no longer in the basement at all, but a tunnel.

"Was this in the plans?" Darcy asked Pepper.

"I doubt it," she replied.

She had no idea where they were heading, but for now there was a couple of tons of steel and about a thousand horsepower between her and Loki. That was good enough for her. Maybe then his poisonous stare, the memory of the way he'd looked at her, wouldn't wake her in the night screaming.

* * *

**This is the last of the high-octane chapters for a little while. Now we get to the chunky stuff. See you all in a week!**


	5. Road Trip

**This chapter is going up as a welcome distraction (for me) from a certain someone who's causing mayhem at SDCC. Git.**

* * *

**Chapter Four: Road Trip**

The tunnel turned out to be a warren, turnings appearing out of nowhere and spidering off into the darkness. Tony took apparently random turns, until Darcy noticed the directions flashing up on the steering wheel: the car was guiding them.

"Please tell me you didn't build all these tunnels, Tony," Pepper said.

"These were already here, I promise. Old subway and service tunnels. We just plugged into them."

"Are you sure he couldn't follow us?" Steve yelled through the sun-roof.

"If it was Thor and his hammer, I'd say he could get through the gate. Little brother, I think we're safe. I added a few boobie traps to be sure."

"What's your back-up plan if he does get through?"

"Speed."

Though there was nothing to see, it didn't stop Darcy staring out the window, her adrenaline slowly ebbing. She'd escaped, but now what? She had no idea where they were going. She'd left everything behind, except her cellphone, apartment keys and wallet. Somehow, she knew she wasn't going back for them. Not for some time.

Darcy didn't even have contact lens solution or her glasses with her, which sucked because something was irritating her eyes and she needed to take her lens out. That was the only reason her vision was blurring up. It had nothing to do with Loki's words.

_You saw what I did to that island—now imagine the damage I did to my dear old brother._ Thor wasn't going to come save them. He was stuck in Asgard, blasted by a box of ice hoodoo that had obliterated an entire island. Chances were he hadn't survived, because what could? She'd seen him die once and come back to life. No one could pull that off twice.

The more she thought about it, the worse it seemed. Asgard had sent Thor to help the last time, so they couldn't rely on help from anywhere else. SHIELD had defeated Loki once, but SHIELD were obeying Loki's orders, and that meant other government agencies were too. There was nowhere they could escape to for long, not when Loki would make finding what remained of the Avengers his biggest priority. They couldn't hide forever and this journey through Manhattan Below was just delaying the inevitable.

However she looked at this, it wasn't going to end well for her. And she had to admit, she wasn't being cool about the situation. She was piss-in-her-pants terrified.

The ground began sloping upwards and Tony dipped the headlights, killing his speed so the engine fell to a gentle purr. When Darcy squinted out ahead, she could see they were on a ramp, and then the tunnel levelled out again. They rolled to a stop in front of another steel gate.

Tony leaned out of the window to wave at a camera, and the gate began to reel upwards.

Pepper frowned. "They don't use biometric security?"

"There's no point—we already know Loki's willing to cut off body parts to gain access to places. Besides, she knows me." He inched the car forwards and when they were clear, the gate slammed shut again. They were in another basement, smaller than the space under Stark Tower. An official-looking black sedan waited ahead, engine ticking over.

"Identify yourself," a woman ordered, stepping out beside the car with a gun aimed at Tony's head. She was dressed all in black, a hood drawn up over her head. Tony didn't seem phazed at all, wiggling his fingers as he held his hands up. She stared, long and hard, into his eyes, then gave an abrupt nod. Steve dropped down beside her, his hands held out for surrender too, and she lowered the gun after repeating the check.

"Not the greeting I was expecting," said Tony.

"You're late. I had to be sure."

"Wanna see a trick, Romanoff?" Darcy knew the name, but she couldn't remember where from.

"We need to move," Romanoff replied, ignoring Tony's question. "They haven't closed the roads yet, but they will."

"It'll only take a minute."

She jerked away from the car and cursed in a language Darcy didn't know. As she did moved her hood fell backwards, displaying scarlet hair. That was more of a hint to Romanoff's identity. The red-haired assassin, the unnamed Avenger who was whispered about in SHIELD circles. It was a relief she was on their side, although rumor had it she had a bone to pick with Loki.

Darcy's attention snapped back to the car. From where she sat, she could see the hood of the car fade, the red leaching away to a dull grey.

"Holy shit," she whispered.

"That's very impressive," Romanoff said to Tony, "but we need to be out of Manhattan before they lock the bridges down. You also need to toss your cells."

The moment Darcy had feared had come. She passed her cell to Pepper, who handed them all over to Romanoff. They were crunched underfoot. Now Darcy was down to just useless apartment keys and a purse with no money in it.

Romanoff leaned in to speak to Pepper. "Can you drive the other car? I need to be watching the roads for a tail and I can't do that from behind the wheel."

Pepper opened her door and Tony sent a sharp glance backwards. "Where are you going?"

"The other car." She slammed the door behind her.

"No you're not. You stay in here. Steve can drive that one."

"No offense, Captain, but we need someone who operate the electronics in that thing."

"Tony," said Pepper, "we need two fighters in each car and two civilians."

"You're not a fighter, and I am not a civilian."

"Right now, we are. You don't have your armor, but I always have mine. We don't have time to debate this."

"Pepper!"

"What happened to your shoes?" Romanoff asked as Pepper climbed into the driver's seat of the other car.

"Blame Loki. They were some of my favorites. Louboutins."

"_Monster."_

As Pepper reached out to shut the door, Darcy caught sight of a familiar face in the passenger seat, previously obscured by the dark glass in the sedan.

"Eric!" she called.

He turned in her direction. "Darcy?"

"I can't believe it! Do you know where Jane—"

"Darcy?" another voice said, one she recognised, but the car's engine revved to life, and cut them off. Romanoff slid into the seat Pepper had just vacated and gave Darcy a cool appraisal.

"Who's this?" she asked the captain, who was now in the passenger seat. They were already in motion, the sedan ahead pulling down an exit ramp into a steady stream of traffic on the road beyond.

Steve's expression in the rearview mirror was blank, and Darcy tried not to be offended by it. There was no way Tony would remember her name. "I'm Darcy Lewis."

"Natasha Romanoff. Are you affiliated with SHIELD?"

"I was. Kind of. I worked with Jane. She was in the other car, right?"

"Yes." Romanoff was already focussed elsewhere, and that was fine with Darcy. She was unnerving. Something about the way she moved and the way she stared. Darcy's mood was lifted anyway—Jane was alive, and on her way to safety too.

Although she didn't know about Thor yet. Which meant Darcy would probably need to be the one to tell her.

Judging by their surroundings, they were cutting through Harlem. Darcy hadn't really made it this far north since she'd arrived, and didn't recognize the white suspension bridge they were queueing for to cross the river. Despite her jitters, it was wonderful to be above ground again. She just hoped they all knew what they were doing—even Tony was nervous, his knee bouncing up and down. The captain sat perfectly still. Romanoff seemed full of coiled energy, motionless yet ready to explode in any direction, and her hand was not far from her holstered gun.

There was no checkpoint onto the bridge, despite the sluggish traffic, but none of them began breathing freely till they were on the other side, speeding away from Manhattan.

"How much do you know about where we're going?" Romanoff asked Tony.

"You give me the coordinates, the car finds them," he replied.

"They can track GPS."

"Not mine. It'll also update with roadblocks as they set up, avoid major roads and tolls. So far this journey has doubled in length."

"Which is why we're in the Bronx and heading in the wrong direction," she replied drily. "What about licence plates?"

"Ours match a SHIELD service vehicle. Theirs is a SHIELD service vehicle, which is in the repair shop according to their records."

"You've planned this down to the last detail. Did you really think Loki would come back?"

"Loki? No. I did suspect that one day SHIELD or some other government wing would come for me. Maybe I'd refuse to build them the weapon they wanted, or let slip the wrong classified intel. What can I say, I'm a conspiracy theorist at heart."

They fell silent again while Tony took the roads heading upstate. All Darcy wanted out of this was somewhere as swanky as Stark Tower or Tony's Malibu dreamhouse (pre-demolition) to live in, even if she had to clean it to earn her keep. Scratch that. All she wanted was for them to not get caught.

Her boredom fed her morose mood and several times she reached for her cell—because what would cheer her up more than cats videos?—only to remember it was gone, destroyed under Romanoff's boot.

Out there, her friends and family were going on with their lives. Her mom would try and call at some point. Maybe she'd see on the news about the invasion of Stark Tower and panic, or maybe she'd assume that Darcy wouldn't have been there on a Saturday and call next week. When Darcy didn't answer—and when did she ever?—she'd try again. And again. Eventually someone would realise she'd disappeared, but what could they do about it? She was probably going to be on a long list of people who vanished into thin air when they pissed off Loki.

Yeah, only the Malibu dreamhouse would make up for this. Sadly, they seemed to be heading for upstate New York, so it was doubtful she was going to get a sea view.

Tony got bored as quickly as she did, making barbs at Steve and Natasha to pass the time. Neither took the bait. Then he tried to initiate a game of Eye Spy, which was aborted at Romanoff's insistence. She was able to come up with incredible threats very casually.

"Oh, come on, someone needs to keep me entertained. We have another two hours at least, and if you won't let me stop for a break, you gotta keep me focussed. Tell me stories. Regale me with tales of daring do and hard-won battles like Thor wou—"

He shut up.

In the silence that followed, Darcy had the opportunity to ask the question she'd been mulling over for hours. "Do you think he killed him?"

Everyone looked at her with guarded expressions and no one wanted to answer. When the pause stretched too long, Natasha spoke. "No. If Thor were dead, the whole world would know about it. Loki would use that knowledge to help control people. If their hero was dead, they'd lose hope and be less resistant."

"Besides," Tony said, "I've seen the big guy take a lot worse than a little frostbite. He can call lightning—if anyone's going to survive a blast from the blue box thingy, it's him."

"What_ is_ that box?" Steve asked.

"It's called the Casket of Ancient Winters." Darcy surprised everyone, including herself. "It belongs to the frost giants, or at least it did. They used it to invade Earth years ago and caused an ice age." She'd only just put together the link between the casket and what it could do. "But when Asgard defeated them, Odin took it and locked it in his weapons vault."

"Oh, great," Tony grumbled. "Why does nothing he locks away ever stay put?"

"How do you know all that?" Natasha asked Darcy.

"I read all the myths after I met Thor. Some are obviously wrong, and they tend to contradict each other. The stories about the frost giants' invasion is pretty detailed though, and the casket gets mentioned a few times."

Natasha's level stare made Darcy feel like she'd just got upgraded from "_useless moocher_" to "_potentially useful_".

"Is there any way to make contact with Asgard?" Steve asked.

"We have Jane and Eric," Darcy said. "They're experts on the Einstein-Rosey bridge things, right?"

"What?"

"Wormholes, basically," said Tony. To Darcy, he replied, "Most of their work is theoretical. Apart from Dr Selvig's little experiment while under Loki's command, and that was done with more than a little boost from the Tesseract. What they didn't have before is me."

"Can you do it?" Steve asked.

"I can't build a suit _and_ a bridge across the universe."

"The bridge is more important."

"And I'll help," Darcy promised. "I don't understand most of what they were doing, but I know my way around Jane's data and built a few of the programs she used." This was a _purpose_. If anyone knew how to rock at assisting, it was her.

"Is there anything we can do?" asked Natasha.

"Keep SHIELD away," said Tony. "Keep Loki away. Keep us all from killing each other while cooped up in the safehouse."

"Two out of three, I can do."

"So. It was Darcy, right? Tell me, did any of these myths feature orgies?"

* * *

Half an hour later, Darcy realized why so many myths had undergone Chinese-whisper style transformations. It was so tempting to add your own embellishments when you were telling them.

"So then Loki tied his balls to this goat and—"

"Bullshit," Tony cut in. "You're making that up."

"No, that's really in there, I swear!" But other parts had definitely been her own invention.

"No wonder Loki always looks so pissed. I bet Thor started that rumor and didn't expect it to get immortalized."

"I think the moral of the story is, don't invite Norse gods to your wedding," said Steve.

"Or your planet," agreed Tony. "Say, Darcy. You never mentioned you'd met Loki before."

"I haven't."

"Yet he recognized you."

"It must have been from SHIELD files or someplace. I only knew Thor for, like, two days, and that was when he was exiled here. Loki was on Asgard. When Loki invaded the last time, I got shipped off to Norway with Jane."

"So you hung out with Thor, huh?"

"Yeah. We found him out in the desert—I kind of tasered him the first time I met him."

"Wait. You're the girl who tasered Thor? You are my new favorite person. After Pepper. And myself. Feel free to repeat the tasering on his brother."

"I don't have my taser."

"Sweetheart, I will build you the best taser in existence."

Night was already closing in when they passed a sign for a small town, one of many they'd driven through. Newford. Population 2300. It was barely more than a cluster of streets around the county highway. Foothills rose on either side of the town, carpeted in evergreens.

"Romanoff, why is the GPS giving me a half mile indicator?"

"Because we're a half mile from the safehouse. I told you it was rural."

"But _this_—do they even have electricity?"

"We're not in Siberia, Stark. It's only a short journey to Albany."

"And why would I want to go to Albany?"

Natasha didn't bother responding. Once they were through Newford, they turned off the highway onto a smaller road, then onto a track that didn't even count as a road. Tony muttered and cursed about the damage to his car all the way along it. Trees created a tunnel around the track, making it impossible to see where they were, but it was only a few hundred yards before they emerged onto a gravel driveway. Tony slammed on the brakes and cursed again.

The passengers of the other car were already out: Pepper, Jane, Eric, and a stocky guy in a black jumpsuit who Darcy didn't recognise. She stayed sitting, not trusting her legs after the long journey and trying to make out where she was going to be living. The lack of streetlighting didn't help, but from what illumination the headlamps gave, Stark Tower it was not. In fact, it looked more like the abandoned hotel from every horror story ever.

Going into hiding sucked.

* * *

**Much thanks to my betas, especially since spellcheck doesn't work in Scrivener on my laptop so most typos are passing me by.**


	6. Safehouse

**Settle in. This is a long one.**

* * *

**Chapter Five: Safehouse**

Tony was the first to react. "I'm not living here." Pepper picked her way over the gravel towards them, the expression on her face making it clear she was expecting a meltdown. "You promised me a safehouse. This is not safe. We're going to get yanked out of our beds by cannibalistic yokels and chased through the hallways by creepy twin girls."

"It's supposed to look like this," Natasha said. "It keeps people away. The inside's fine."

"I'm not ever going to find out—I'm not going in there!"

Darcy snuck away while Pepper tried to talk sense into Tony, crossing to to where Jane and Eric waited. Natasha seemed to be having a reunion with the guy from the other car, talking quietly but rapidly, and Steve trailed Darcy, apparently unwilling to intrude on either conversation.

"Darcy!" Jane greeted as she approached, pulling her into a hug. "I'm so glad they remembered you."

"Well, I'm kind of here by accident. Wrong place, wrong time. You know me."

"At least they didn't banish us to Norway this time."

Steve held his hand out to Jane. "Captain Steve Rogers."

"Yeah, I know who you are," she replied, a little incredulous, shaking his hand. "Dr Jane Foster."

"I've heard a lot about you. Tony praises your work very highly."

"Tony Stark? He does?"

"Of course. Thor talked about you plenty too. Dr Selvig, good to see you again."

"I wish the circumstances were different."

"Don't we all."

"Things will get better when Thor gets here," Jane said confidently.

Darcy opened her mouth to tell her what Loki had said, and thought better of it. That was the kind of conversation that happened in private. With tea and cookies. "Can you believe this place?" she said instead.

"We should go in and make sure we really can live here," Steve chimed in.

The four of them turned to stare dubiously at the heavy, warped front door.

"We're not going in there," Natasha shouted over. She and the guy in the jumpsuit walked over to join them. "Our entrance is through the garage." She pointed to a lean-to on the side of the main building, a later addition that looked like it was in better condition than the rest. That wasn't saying much. "The first thing we need to do when we go down is turn the generators on."

"Down?" Darcy asked.

"The facility is underneath this area. That's how we'll remain hidden. Without the generators on, there's no light or air conditioning down there."

This was sounding less and less appealing.

"That reminds me—we'll need to move the cars before dawn. They'll have to stay under the tree canopy, so they can't be seen from the air." She retreated back to the sedan to retrieve whatever she needed to get them inside, leaving them with jumpsuit guy. For the first time, Darcy noticed he had something slung over his back, but it was too dark to properly see what. "I'm Clint Barton," he said by way of introduction.

"Oh my God, you're Hawkeye!" She cringed internally at how much she sounded like a fangirl.

He smiled at Darcy's outburst. "Clint's fine." The bundle on his back was clearer now she knew what it was—arrows and, presumably, a bow, but it must have been folded away.

Natasha returned clutching a handful of flashlights and handed them around. "We'll be needing these. Try not to waste the batteries." No shadow puppets, then.

"Were you able to locate Dr Banner?" Steve asked Clint.

"He's in rural Iceland, and he intends to stay there."

"That's a shame. He's the only person who seems to have a moderating effect on Tony. Plus we could use his science skills."

"I'd rather not be cooped up in this place with him, and I think he'd agree."

"Everybody stay behind me," Natasha instructed. She waved Pepper and Tony over. "I know my way around, but it's been awhile."

Darcy found herself in the middle of the pack, which she was extremely happy about. There was less chance of being picked off that way, by whatever might be lurking around the creepy house in the middle of the night.

"How are we looking for supplies?" Clint asked Natasha.

"There's a good stock of food, though nothing fresh, and plenty of gas for the generators."

"What about clothes?" Pepper asked. "We've only got what we came in." She was still barefoot.

"There'll be enough for everyone to change, but I can't promise any choice. Or designer labels."

She unlocked a rusting side door into the garage and flipped her flashlight on, shining it inside. It was empty, save for moths, cobwebs, and a forlorn Jeep decaying in one corner. They all followed her across the garage, like ducklings waddling after their mother, and when she reached the Jeep she brushed away several inches worth of cobwebs from the wall. Darcy took an involuntary step backwards and bumped into Eric, who patted her shoulder in an attempt to be soothing. The creepy things were almost definitely going to be Acromantula.

A door had appeared beneath the matted gossamer. Natasha removed the padlock pinning it shut, the hinges squeaking as she pulled the door open. "We'll need to get oil on that."

Through the door, a set of stairs descended into the underworld.

It was all blessedly cobweb-free as they crept down them, but the combination of eight flashlight beams twisted into flickering, grotesque shadows that did not help Darcy's imagination.

"How do SHIELD not know about this place?" Steve asked.

"They didn't build it," Natasha replied.

"Then who did?"

"An old employer of mine."

That ended that round of questions, and silence fell as they left the stairs behind, turning into a short corridor. Unmarked doors opening on either side of them and it truncated in another. The decoration was minimal and completely at odds with the structure above ground—this was newer, and had the air of government or military about it. Probably some unholy combination of the two, and it wasn't even the US government. The only thing that stopped it from feeling like every time she'd been marched up to Fury's Washington office was the musty air and darkness.

Natasha pushed open the final door, and though the torch beams didn't illuminate the whole space, Darcy could make out a large kitchen-cum-dining-cum living space. The kitchen to the right was industrial in style, designed to feed more than the average family, and twin cafeteria tables took up the middle of the room. On the far left, a group of couches clustered around a giant plasma screen fixed to the wall, and from the far wall two more corridors branched away.

"Wait here. We'll be back when we have power." She took Clint and Eric with her. The rest of them automatically migrated to the couches. Darcy sank onto one and Jane curled up beside her, while Tony sprawled himself out opposite and Pepper perched on the end. Steve remained standing, arms folded and expression intent.

"So. This is nice," Pepper said.

* * *

Darcy had already nodded off before the power flickered on, though she was dimly aware of a distant hum starting up. Jane shook her awake, and she allowed herself to be led down of the corridors into one of the mysterious rooms, bundled up on a cot and left to sleep.

Her first thought, when she was still fighting her way back to consciousness, was that she'd been hospitalised. The room she was dark, but a chink of light filtered through the door opposite, the quality of it harshly fluorescent. It all just felt industrial. Only the hush, the room soundless except for the whir of air conditioning, and the absence of beeping machines reminded her of where she really was.

There was no bedside lamp, so she had to crawl out of the cot and turn on the overhead light. She blinked against the sudden brightness, shielding her eyes as she surveyed the room. She'd slept like the dead, a miracle considering how narrow the cot was. The room was simply furnished: bed, chair, desk. At the foot of the cot, a pile of folded clothes waited with a note lying on top.

_Hope these fit. It's all they have. Bathroom's down the hall. - Jane._

Darcy shook the fabric out to discover a black hoodie, t shirt, cargo pants and underwear. There was clearly a dress code in place.

She had no idea what time it was—morning, afternoon, middle of the night—and reached into her pocket for her cell before remembering it was gone. Only the gnawing in her belly gave any indication to how much time could have passed. It made prioritising easier: food first, then showering.

She half-expected to be locked into the room, but the door opened into the hall she'd sleepwalked down the night before. With the striplights now working, white painted walls glaringly bright and sterile, she could see that some doors had numbers on, and some symbols. Two doors down from her room was a little shower sign.

She kept going past, back to the communal space.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Jane greeted. She sat at one of the cafeteria tables, munching on toast, in her own set of all-black garments.

Darcy crossed to sit opposite her and snatched up a bagel from a plate in the middle. "Where is everybody?"

"Most of them are still sleeping. They were all focussed on getting things running again last night and checking out our supplies before they went to bed. I think Tony was up all night trying to set up a lab."

"A lab? Down here?"

"It's perfectly safe," said Natasha, appearing silently at the head of the table. "The facility was designed with space for engineers and scientists in mind, so their workspaces contain fire and explosions well."

Darcy could remember Natasha telling them last night that this place wasn't the work of the US government, which was frightening considering what it meant. Convenient for them right now, but also convenient for anyone plotting against the government.

"Did you even sleep?" asked Jane. "You were still awake when I went to bed."

"I napped," Natasha replied. "There were more important things to do. Our supplies won't last long, not when there are this many of us. Some of us will need to head out to procure more."

She said the last sentence while staring directly at Darcy.

"Me?" she spluttered through a mouthful of bagel.

"You are the least likely to be recognised out of any of us. I won't send you out alone, not at first, but we can't expect Steve to walk into any grocery store and not attract attention. There are things we can do to make ourselves less recognisable."

Darcy didn't like the sound of that, but she was essentially getting a free ride here and couldn't argue against it. She wanted to say that Jane was pretty unrecognisable too, but that wasn't true. Jane always attracted attention, even if she was oblivious to it, whereas Darcy had a tendency to fade into the background.

"Are either of you trained in self-defense or combat?" Natasha asked.

"Nuh-uh." This is also sounded ominous, and from the corner of her eye, Darcy could see Jane's eyes widen.

"Then I'll arrange for the captain and myself to provide some. We don't know when you'll need it."

Darcy hoped it'd be the captain. She'd hated gym in school, but more time with the captain couldn't be a bad thing.

"I should go look at the lab too," said Jane, rising from her chair. "The sooner we start work, the sooner we'll make a Bifrost of our own. I'm really confident that between the three of us, we'll crack this and have Thor here in no time."

"Uh. Yeah. About that."

She had no excuse to delay that conversation anymore. While Natasha slipped away, Darcy recounted to Jane exactly what Loki had said.

* * *

Despite that one dramatic conversation and its aftermath, the day seemed dull and slow to Darcy. Jane had retired to her room, requesting time alone, and since Darcy had already spent time dealing with her hysterical outburst, she was happy to oblige. She'd showered—dealing with the fact she had to use whatever was to hand—peeled out the contacts she'd accidentally slept in, wandered around the facility while everyone else snoozed away and finally flopped down on one of the couches, counting the cracks in the ceiling. Everything was blurry without anything to fix her eyesight but she was out of luck on that front too. No one else had ventured out to entertain her. There were probably avoiding running into Jane. Cowards.

The plasma screen refused to turn on. She'd scoured the area for reading material and come up empty. If she'd had her phone, she could at least have played Candy Crush. Time was going to drag by here, and she still had no clue what the time even was.

She blinked, and Natasha was planted at the end of the sofa, her stare direct.

"Gah!" Darcy tried to muffle her squeal so as not to wake anyone who was still sleeping. She wasn't all that successful. When the heart palpitations slowed, she asked, "Who do I have to kill to get an internet connection?"

"Ask Stark. If anyone can arrange it, it's him. But you know you won't be able to contact your friends or family."

Darcy let out an exaggerated sigh. "Do you have any Harlequin stashed around here, then? Since I guess it's not your first visit."

If she hadn't known better, she'd have sworn Natasha almost smiled. "You can buy stuff to read at the grocery store."

"That's a long time to wait. What can I do in the meantime?"

"We're going this afternoon."

Darcy rolled upwards so fast she nearly span off the couch. "Wait. Don't you have to teach me to be a superspy or something first?"

"Not at all. We just need to fix your appearance." Darcy was already regretting the not arguing back thing from earlier. "Did you wash your hair earlier?"

"No. I couldn't find a comb—"

"Perfect. Come with me."

Despite her reticence, Darcy obediently followed, back down the corridor towards the stairway they'd entered through, and opened the door nearest them. "These are my quarters," she said, and Darcy tried to keep her eyes averted. It was difficult, given she was inherently nosey, and the room looked almost lived in. It was as sparsely furnished as her own, but showed signs of being personalised: a plush, woolen blanket on the cot, a rail of clothes in the corner, and a trunk at the foot of the cot, locked with the biggest padlock Darcy had ever seen. There was even a huge poster of a sunrise over a lake, and a calendar pinned up over the desk showing a waterfall spilling down a cliff.

"You get whatever sunshine you can get in here," Natasha said, following Darcy's gaze. "Sit," she instructed, pulling the chair out. Darcy obeyed, staring at the calendar while Natasha rummaged around behind her. It was open to the wrong month. Possibly the wrong year.

Natasha deposited three things onto the desk: scissors, a flatiron, and a box of hair dye. Honey blonde.

"Woah! I didn't realise we'd be going so permanent. I thought we'd be using wigs or—"

"I only have one wig," Natasha replied. "And I'll be using it. Red is hard to cover up. Don't worry so much, I don't need to change a lot to make you look different. Some highlights and bangs will make you unrecognisable."

"I don't want bangs—they always go frizzy."

"And I don't want to live on tinned soup for the next month. I'll cut them long enough you can brush them to the side when you want to."

In the end, Natasha did what she wanted, and Darcy didn't even have a mirror to watch the progress. Only when she'd been instructed to wash the dye out in the shower and nearly had her ears burned off twice by the flatiron, was she permitted to go check the bathroom mirror for the finished product.

"You did a really professional job." It wasn't a style Darcy had chosen for herself, but the color wasn't an extreme change.

"Try not to sound so surprised. I'm trained in many things." Natasha guided her to the clothes rail and began to flick through. "We're similar in size, apart from the obvious." Her gaze tracked the front of Darcy's torso, and Darcy forced her hands to say down at her sides instead of shielding her modesty. "We're aiming for a particular look and you can't wear what you did yesterday—they'll have released CCTV stills of us." She pulled out three dresses and held them up against Darcy before hanging them back up. "Okay, these. Go back to your room and put them on. But before you do, apply this everywhere. That means your face too." She dropped a bottle of fake tan on top of the pile and paused, waiting for Darcy to leave.

The fake tan stank, but it was instant so she was able to keep it streak-free where she applied it to her arms and face. Natasha had given her a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but it was a t-shirt that clung a little more closely and plunged more deeply than any Darcy would have picked out herself. The hem of her jeans overhung her Chucks and hid them.

When she returned to Natasha's room, someone else opened the door. An orange-skinned, blonde bombshell with hair down to her waist and huge false eyelashes. It could have been Paris Hilton, except she was wearing more clothes.

"Wow. You do not look like you."

"And you don't look much like you did yesterday," Natasha replied. "You weren't wearing glasses in your SHIELD ID or driver's licence, right?" When Darcy nodded, she handed over a pair. "Wear these. They won't help your eyesight but they'll disguise more of your face. You have new ID and a new credit card."

"When did you make these?"

"This morning. I have the materials I need here."

Darcy took the cards and slid them into her pocket. Natasha grabbed a huge pleather purse and swung her room door shut behind her. It locked with a snick.

"We're going now? Right now?"

"No time like the present. We need to hit a wide area."

Darcy was numb as she followed Natasha up the stairs back into the real world. The angle of the sunshine leaking through the cracks in the garage informed her it was afternoon. Natasha swung the door shut and took a canister from her bag, spraying a thick layer of cobwebs over it. Then to Darcy's consternation, she led her to the Jeep. It was definitely cleaner than last night, free of Acromantula webs, and generally looking a lot newer than it had. Darcy was beginning to doubt that Natasha had slept at all. Or that she was actually human.

Natasha climbed into the driver's seat, but Darcy hesitated before reaching for the passenger-side door.

"What's wrong?"

"Loki has all of the US government at his disposal. SHIELD, the CIA, the FBI, the police…how are you so sure he won't have tracked our location down already?"

"He doesn't have the entire government at his disposal," Natasha replied, without a hint of concern. "He just thinks he does. All those agencies will be looking, but they won't be trying their best. The FBI and CIA know better than to look for me—for that matter, so do SHIELD. They'll search, but if they miss the occasional lead or don't follow it up straight away…well, no one can accuse them of not trying."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

Fighting the urge to run back into the compound and curl up on her cot, Darcy got into the Jeep.

They headed through Newford, but rather than pulling into the grocery store just off the county highway, Natasha drove straight past it. "We can't go in there—it's a small town, anybody they don't know will stand out. We have to go somewhere bigger." She took them instead to the outskirts of Albany, over an hour away, while Darcy fidgeted in the passenger seat and stared out at any car that seemed to be following them. None tailed them for long, but it didn't make her any less jumpy. If the Black Widow could be driving a ten year old Jeep, there was nothing to stop SHIELD from using a rusty old pick-up truck instead of their usual high-end German vehicles.

Natasha eventually pulled into one of the busiest parking lots Darcy had ever seen. They had to cruise around three times to find a space. When the engine cut out and Natasha released her seatbelt, Darcy didn't move.

"Why are you hesitating?"

"Because I really don't want to go in there. There are too many people inside."

"That's the idea. There will be so many other customers, we'll just be part of the crowd. If it makes you feel any better, I'm armed."

Darcy gave her a dubious look. "How? There's nowhere to hide a weapon."

"There is always somewhere to hide a weapon."

In the end, it wasn't too bad. Natasha was efficient, hitting the aisles with the goods they needed and refusing to let Darcy wander away. Not that she wanted to. If people glanced at Darcy at all, it wasn't at her face. Men, women, children…all distracted by her chest.

"I hate this," she hissed to Natasha as they loaded the cart with dried staples. "This is why I cover up!"

"Trust me, I know how you feel," Natasha replied. "But in situations like this, we have to use whatever resources we have available. No one's going to remember your face and that's a good thing."

Darcy's one indulgence was the craft aisle, where she picked up a set of knitting needles, a crochet hook and some wool.

She'd never sweated as much as when the clerk rang their items up and Natasha used her credit card—which was saying something, since she'd grown in New Mexico. She waited for the clerk to ask for another method of payment, or to call security. Or for a buzzer to go off and marines to drop out of the sky on ropes and surround them. Natasha didn't even flinch. She was a completely different person: relaxed and talkative with the clerk, even commenting on some socks she'd tossed into the cart.

"My boyfriend is always losing these at the gym. I swear he thinks little elves leave them out for him overnight…"

It was only when Darcy was helping her load everything into the Jeep that she realised something crucial. "This isn't going to last very long."

"This is only the first store," she replied, sliding back into the driver's seat. "We can't buy enough food and clothes for eight people in one go, that would definitely raise suspicions. We're going to two more stores today and then we'll try a couple more later in the week. Why do you think we didn't pick up any frozen items in there?"

"You mean I have to go through that _again?_"

* * *

When they got back to the facility, Natasha despatched Steve and Clint to help empty the Jeep and it's overflowing trunk. Darcy had picked up a pair of cheap glasses that fit her prescription in the last store, so she found it much easier to admire their backsides as they walked away. Everyone else was gathered in the communal area, with the conspicuous absence of Jane.

"Has she left her room at all?" Darcy asked. She was going to go fetch her out if not, and force her to eat.

"She's been in the lab since we woke up," Pepper explained. "Tony's going to join her but he was fixing the television feed first."

"We have TV?" It was tragic how excited she was about that. "Cable or regular?"

"Technically, it's satellite," Tony explained. "I routed it through the satellite we use for the GPS. I tapped into the feeds from stations all over the world. It'll help keep an eye on what's going on out there."

"I'm going to check on Jane," said Darcy. It was easy to locate the lab: it was the only room with a touchpad entry—albeit disabled—and hazard signs along the route. She found Jane inside, hunched over a soldering iron, fixing tiny fragments of metal together. Beside her on the bench, three pieces of unidentifiable machinery lay dismantled, cannibalised for parts.

"Hard at work already?"

At first she thought Jane wasn't going to reply, but when she'd finished the line she was working on, she looked up. "I have to know, and this is the only way I'm going to find out. Even if I asked Loki straight, he could lie to me and I'd never know it. But if I can fix the Bifrost—if I can build a Bifrost—then I'll know."

Thousands of channels of free satellite TV were calling to her, but Darcy knew she couldn't abandon Jane to it. Most of it was probably reruns anyway. That made it marginally less painful. She grabbed a notepad and pen from a jumble of stationery on top of one of the desks, and pulled a stool over to sit beside Jane.

"What do you need?"

* * *

**I don't know if I've already apologised for this, but if any Britishisms are missed (including spelling and grammar), it's my fault alone. I'm a Brit writing in an American voice and usually I would switch to US English dictionary but am currently unable to do that. Therefore I can only change the things I'm aware of.**


	7. Supply Run

**Chapter Six: Supply Run **

"Anything?"

Darcy looked up from her position on the couch to where Steve had appeared at the foot of it. "Nothing." She waved the TV's remote control lazily. "Over a thousand channels, and not a clue about what he's up to."

It'd been mostly the same for the month they'd been in hiding. They took it in turns to flick through TV stations, looking for information about whatever Loki was doing, under the pretense that it was a useful task and not an excuse to laze around. While some things had changed—the UN no longer existed, with all former heads of state now reporting to a central agency who were working on a unified penal code—the news broadcasts were very careful not to mention Loki. Or any protests, and they were all convinced that somewhere protests had happened. He hadn't appeared on camera again, though all edicts were being issued with his name attached.

None of it tied in with what they knew about Loki: he didn't want power for power's sake, but for the attention and glory it would bring him. He favored extravagant speeches that stroked his own ego. Shying away from the media was not his M.O. It made them all unnerved and suspicious—Natasha especially.

"Aren't you needed in the lab?" Steve asked.

"Nah. They're fully coffee'd up, and at this point they're just running random experiments based on the data they've extracted. The machines records the results for them, so they don't need me." Tony wasn't used to having a human assistant and had automatically built a program that did 90% of anything Darcy could.

"We could fit another training session in before dinner."

"Still waiting for my muscles to forgive me after the last one. Thanks for the offer though. I think there's a _Man vs Food_ marathon on, if you want to watch that."

"It's either that or paint the hallway again." He sank onto the other couch. Out of boredom, since their daily tasks—cook, clean up, patrol the perimeter—were limited, they'd taken to decorating the facility, covering up the stark white walls with warmer colors. Darcy's room was now plastered in posters, her cot swathed in the fuzziest blankets Walmart had to offer, and there was also a shiny espresso machine on the kitchen counter. Tony had insisted on it. When he got into a pissing match with Steve over breakfast one morning, Pepper had insisted on it too. "You aren't knitting."

When she was bored—which was a lot, lately—Darcy knit. She'd made several cardigans, hats and pairs of socks, and was working her way up to another blanket. "I'm out of yarn. It's on the list for my grocery trip later: yarn, coffee beans, gas for the generator. If you need something, the list is on the refrigerator." They'd settled into three shopping trips a week, trying to avoid hitting the same place more than once a week, and for the last few Darcy had gone on her own. She dutifully flat-ironed her hair everytime and donned a low-cut top.

When she couldn't put it off anymore, Darcy dragged her carcass up and back to her room, preparing for the trip. On her way through the communal area she picked up the shopping list and waved at Clint, who'd taken her place on the couch. When she reached the garage she sprayed the instant cobwebs over the door, like Natasha had shown her, and set off in the Jeep.

At least this got her out of the facility and into the real world: the others were cooped up, stuck patrolling the grounds when it was their turn. Cabin fever had long since set in, so they stuck to their own territories as much as they could. Steve spent his time in the training area, Tony stuck to the lab, Pepper was often found in the kitchen organizing meal plans and color schemes. Natasha was like a ghost, and Clint spent most of his time in the house overground, getting as high as he could to survey the land around them. Darcy's spot, when not in the lab or at the espresso machine, was here on the couch.

Jane hadn't gone outside since they'd arrived. In fact, she didn't leave the lab much, only coming out for meals and sleeping. Tony refused to let her eat in the lab, and it wasn't safe for her sleep there either, though if she'd found a way to skip the two, she'd do it. Jane had always been focused, the real world a distant second to whatever her brilliant mind was working away at, but this was something else. She didn't talk about Thor, and when someone mentioned his name she only talked about how great it would be to see him when they finished the bridge. The glassy-eyed combination of denial and determination would have made Darcy haul her to see a doctor, except that was out of the question.

The best thing about the Jeep? The radio. Music was a blessing given the ever-present hush of the facility—minus the occasional explosion from the lab. Here, without Natasha present to roll her eyes, she could crank up pop songs she would ordinarily have hated and sing along at full blast.

She headed for one of the stores they'd only been to once, just off a busy road leading into downtown Albany. Only when she parked did she rummage in her purse for the cell phone Natasha had entrusted her with. She'd been forbidden from turning it on until when she was well away from the facility, as a means of contacting them if something went wrong. There was exactly one number saved in the memory, for the phone's twin, which Natasha carried with her at all times. They were burners, whatever that meant, and supposedly untrackable according to Tony, once he'd spent half an hour fiddling with their source code. Natasha was the one insisting on caution, keeping it turned off when within a twenty mile radius of their hideout.

If Darcy was being honest, she lingered in the craft aisle, but no one else was around. She picked out a new pattern book and ten balls of yarn. She did grab three different kinds of coffee bean, so that nobody would complain she hadn't got their favorite. At least she knew Tony was bankrolling all this spending, and didn't feel too bad about the regular fraud she was committing.

Her visit to the second store was much the same, though she bought less yarn. It was when she left that things went to hell.

Despite not receiving any super-spy training, even Darcy could tell when someone was tailing her. Or maybe it wasn't so much that another car followed her as she pulled out of the parking lot, as the type of car. SHIELD-issue, nearly guaranteed, down to the tinted glass.

"Shit."

Her hands shook on the steering wheel as she paused, waiting for a break in the flow of traffic to exit the lot. The glass meant she couldn't see who was in the car, but it was probably more than one person. Hell, even if it was one person, she was screwed. She was unarmed and no match for anyone who'd gone through the training SHIELD required of its agents.

_Keep calm. What would Natasha do?_

Not lead them back to the facility, for a start. She needed to act like she hadn't even seen them. She was Darcy Lewis. All their intel about her would say she had no skills to speak of. There was no way could she outsmart them. Well, she had desperation on her side, and _no way_ was she getting delivered to Loki.

She turned in the wrong direction, heading further into Albany, brainstorming ways to throw them off her tail. She wasn't a great driver and though there were plenty of SUVs around, no other Jeeps, so she stuck out on the road. The one piece of luck she had on her side was that it was rush hour, commuters clogging the roads, and dusk would make it harder for them to watch her.

Up ahead, a crowded strip mall lined the road, and she waited for the last minute to pull across the lane and make the turning. While they went sailing past her, the beeping of horns telling her they were causing traffic chaos while trying to turn around, she strode towards a drugstore as confidently as she could manage.

The place was busy enough she could lose herself in the crowd. She grabbed a pack of hair ties and a hoodie from a rack of merchandise for some movie that had just been released. She almost made the mistake of paying for them, but since she was already on the lam, she might as well add shoplifting to her rap sheet. In the customer bathroom, she changed as quickly as she could: plaiting her hair and pulling the hoodie on over her t shirt. Then she shoved the cell phone, credit card and ID into her pocket, leaving her purse behind.

Two grey-suited men were in the drugstore when she emerged and she crept down another aisle, making a break for the door while they were talking to the cashier. Outside, she almost headed back to the Jeep, but saw another Grey Suit across the lot, keeping watch. She'd have to leave it behind for now. Instead, she turned on her heel, crossing the pavement back towards the road and the line of people waiting for a bus. The small amount of cash she had would be enough to pay the fare into Albany. They could wait for her to go back to the Jeep until it turned to rust.

It should have been that easy. Relief was already surging through her body, carried along on adrenaline, as she joined the waiting passengers, shuffling into the heart of the group. She allowed herself one backwards glance—casual, uninterested—as the city bus pulled up, and saw him.

Loki. In the parking lot, beside the Jeep, his sharp gaze searching the area for her.

* * *

**Did I mention I like cliffhangers? I like cliffhangers.**


	8. Chivalry

**Chapter Seven: Chivalry**

Darcy whipped back to face the road before his gaze reached the place where she stood. With the hood up and her back to him, she could be anyone, just another commuter.

The bus door opened and people poured up the stairs. She let herself be pulled along, tossing money down for the driver and finding an empty double seat on the opposite side to the parking lot.

Even when she sat, the hood her key to anonymity, her heart rate didn't slow. She didn't dare look out of the window, just counted down the seconds until the last person boarded and the bus departed. Any moment now there'd be forward motion, and that would be space between her and Loki.

She fumbled with her phone, pulling it out of her pocket to begin a message to Natasha. _On bus in Albany. He's here_.

There was no creak of leather, no warning, just the brush of a leg against hers as someone took the seat beside her, pinning her in place. The bus was too silent. She didn't look up, just kept staring at her phone. If she didn't look, he wasn't there. He didn't need to be on a bus in upstate New York, not when he was busy subjugating the entire world. She wasn't important enough for that.

When he leaned in he brought a scent with him, cool and fresh, not mint but something close to it. "If you come with me," he said in a soft voice—but not a whisper— "then everyone can go on with their journey in peace." Not a threat, not until her imagination put the pieces together. He sounded perfectly civil, and it was inappropriate to notice how beautiful his voice was. She did the only thing she could; she nodded.

He rose again and swaggered back down the aisle without checking if she was following. She almost yelled for the driver to floor it, but caught sight of his expression in the rearview mirror—he had the wide, panicked eyes of a horse about to bolt. He wasn't going to do anything to piss off their emperor. Darcy did what she had to do. She followed Loki off the bus, back into the frigid night.

When she stood beside him on the pavement he held out a hand in expectation. The message to Natasha had been sent, but she still had to will her knuckles to loosen from the phone as she handed it to him.

"Thank you." It dropped to the concrete and crunched beneath his boot. The doors of the bus_ pfffed_ shut and the engine rumbled, horns blaring as it pulled out into the line of traffic without warning. Loki's hand was still in mid-air, waiting. For the first time she looked at him, and nearly wilted under the force of his gaze.

His expression was impossible to decipher—was that a smile at the corners of his mouth? She wasn't seeing the funny side of the situation, but then the god of mischief would see the humor in the most horrible of circumstances. Despite the threatening mirth, there was a heaviness to his stare, a force you either backed away from or met head on. There was no mercy there.

"Your hand," he requested after a pause, a moment when she was ready to back away, metaphorically and physically. She was a tiny, inconsequential thing next to him, and spending any time around him was only going to diminish her further.

She mutely held her hand out and he took it, threading his fingers through hers. His skin, she was surprised to learn, wasn't biting cold but pleasantly warm, especially compared to the wintery air. There was no jolt of electricity, nothing to suggest he was anything but an ordinary man. But the way he held her was closer to a lover, strangely intimate when they'd never even held a conversation. She'd never said a word to him.

_It's better than the way he looked at you the last time_, she reminded herself. Though that just scared her further—why was he going so far to be polite—no, chivalrous—when he'd seemed ready to flay her alive the first time he saw her?

"My lady, our chariot awaits," he said, gesturing down the sidewalk to the end of the block. A black-and-chrome SUV idled at the curb. No limousines for this emperor, at least not tonight. She allowed herself to be led to the car, his long-legged stride easing for her shorter gait, swathing herself in that same mute disbelief she'd worn since he'd stepped onto the bus.

A black-suited guard silently opened the back door and she scrambled up and in, Loki's hand on her lower back. The handle on the other side was disabled and he climbed in after her, wedging her in place. He took her hand again and she wished he wouldn't; not because his touch was unpleasant, exactly, but being this close just reminded her of how much power he had. Besides, she was aware of how sweaty her hand was in his.

"You seem terrified," he murmured. "I like that response. It shows you are a sensible girl and have the proper respect for me. You have no need to be, but I'm aware mere words will do nothing to ease your fear, and I must admit I have little wish to do so." She kept her gaze averted. His words actually invoked the opposite response—her terror spiked—but at least when she wasn't looking directly at his face and the evil she'd seen written there before, his voice was easier to swallow, low and soft across her skin. She waited for the demands to begin, questions about where the rest of the team were hiding, but they never came.

She didn't know why he continued to hold her hand like this. The car sped through the streets, ignoring lights and signs and traffic laws, and she held her breath as they approached the turn off towards the suburbs and, further away, Newbury. She hoped Natasha had seen that message and they'd had chance to scramble. The facility was half an hour away, even at top speed, so they had the time to get out. This had to be why Loki kept a firm grip on her—what was the point in asking her where the others were when her thundering pulse at each intersection gave the game away?

Except they swept past that road, heading back towards the interstate, and Darcy tried to swallow down her confusion.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm not here for them," Loki whispered. She glanced at him, startled, and he smiled brightly. "Your relief is too obvious. If I want to find them, I shall, but that's not why I'm here today."

"Then why—" She forgot herself for a moment, forgot she wasn't with Tony, the megalomaniac with a conscience, and bit down on the rest of that question before it could escape. He just smiled wider.

"Why you? We're going to have fun exploring that."

"Look, I don't know anything." The words spilled out, beyond her control, panic loosening her tongue. "When I worked at Stark we didn't even make weapons anymore, and if Mr Stark left some designs behind, I have no idea how to make them work. You can tell when someone's lying—you know I'm not!"

"Yes, I know you're not lying. I'm not looking for information, nor am I looking for a weapon. My sweet girl, I already have an artifact that allows me to freeze entire continents, not to mention near boundless abilities of my own. All I ask of you, for now, is a little company."

Her fear spiked again, and his lips curled in that terrifying smile.

"Oh, yes, I really rather do like that." Her hood had fallen back, balanced precariously on the back of her head, and he reached out to tip it all the way down. "You changed your hair, Ms Lewis. That is not the shade described in the SHIELD files. Camouflage I presume?" She felt him take hold of her hair, carefully undoing the plait with nimble fingers. She felt it spill out over his hand when loose and a moment later her scalp tingled. The hair that fell over shoulders when he dropped it had faded back to its normal deep brown. "That's better."

His words meant he'd researched her, personally, instead of leaving it up to SHIELD to find her. It made everything so much worse. He'd recognized her despite never having met her, and now he'd spent time analyzing her. Not just as a minor member of the team who'd fled him, or a some-time friend of Thor's. He had a purpose in mind for her, one he'd apparently decided to extract with honey rather than flies. The world was shifting beneath her feet, the rug and any semblance of safety being pulled away. Whatever he wanted was inevitably going to be betrayal of the Avengers, of humanity, and probably of herself. There was nothing she had to give—that he could possibly want—that wouldn't need the worst of her.

"You should relax, as much as you can. We have some time before we reach my chosen palace. Perhaps you would like to read? Or knit?"

He gestured to a bag of groceries—groceries taken from the Jeep. The pattern book and her newest set of needles were sticking out of the stop.

_No. I'd like to shove one of the needles into your heart. And I'd try it if I didn't think you'd snap my neck before I moved an inch._

Darcy kept her mouth shut.

"It was the hobby that allowed us to trace you. It was apparent when we searched your apartment that it would be a clue to your whereabouts. When you have access to the sales data of all stores in North America, and the kind of statistical software that allows you to triangulate anomalies to very specific location, it becomes a remarkably simple task narrowing your locality down."

She flinched at the casual way he described rummaging around in her life. Like it was nothing to go into her apartment to find clues about who she was. For him, it wasn't. He wrote the laws everyone danced to now. He decided what he could and couldn't do.

Time to face the inevitable: she was screwed.

She turned her head away from him, not as an act of defiance but to get her bearings. They passed road signs all making it clear where they were heading: back to New York City.

He chuckled at her movement. "By all means, take in our surroundings." She leaned her head against the window and watched time eat the miles.

The flickering of the landscape made her drowsy, but the residual adrenaline kept her awake. Loki was perfectly still beside her, so much that if it hadn't been for his ability to_ feel_ present, she'd have happily pretended she was in the car alone.

They approached Manhattan over the George Washington Bridge, and it struck Darcy as wrong that the city looked the same as she'd left it. Cranes sprouted above rooftops, building the latest monuments to the sky. Life was going on as usual.

"Now, I'm afraid I must keep you in the dark about our location." He produced a blindfold from thin air, smiling at his own joke. She cringed away, but he deftly tied it around her head before she could move too far, cutting out all light. She couldn't see above or below. "Can't have you trying to communicate with the traitors, can we?"

Trying to maintain a sense of direction was useless. She couldn't even guess at distance, because the stop-start of the traffic—apparently Loki wasn't invoking special privileges within the city—meant they could have been crawling along for quarter of a mile, or three. The abrupt cutting of the engine startled her, and then the blindfold was removed, revealing an underground parking lot. Not the one in Stark Tower, though it might as well have been for all the difference it made. All that effort put into escaping and staying hidden, and yet here she was.

Loki hooked their arms together and rested his other hand on her forearm, though it felt more like a guiding maneuver this time and less like chivalry. He led to her an elevator, called only by his handprint in the biometric reader, and in she was shepherded. Nothing inside the elevator gave any hint about what building they were in. The floor buttons totaled thirty, and they were going all the way up.

On the penthouse landing, there were two doors. One had soldiers stationed outside it. She knew which one she was going through.

They looked at their feet rather than at Loki as he passed, which she thought was a small act of insubordination, even if he didn't know it. To him, it probably registered as deference. With another swipe of his hand in front of a biometric reader, several locks unlocked inside and the door pushed open easily.

Utter blackness met her eyes, and if it hadn't been for Loki's guiding hand, she wouldn't have entered at all. She'd only taken a few steps inside when Loki released her arm and backed away.

"I'll return in due course. It would be best if you settled yourself as much as you are able—you'll be here for some time."

The door closed behind him, and the locks rattled shut again, leaving her in darkness.

* * *

**A/N: This entire story stems from a dream I had one night, about a year ago, where I was in an office block. Everyone was running for the exits, then the stairs melted beneath us. Somehow I found myself outside, at night, in the car park of a big box store, knowing I was being followed. I escaped by getting onto a bus, until someone sat down beside me...**

**And thus, Smoke & Mirrors was born.**


	9. Imprisonment

**Trigger warning for this chapter - suicide ideation (sorta kinda). **

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Imprisonment**

Darcy's immediate impulse was to find the means to kill herself.

She'd never considered suicide before. All things told, she was an optimist, and she didn't want to die, but whatever she faced had to be worse. Torture at Loki's hands—physical pain and mental trickery—until she gave up the Avengers' location. If careless words tumbled from her lips, then Earth's only hope would be extinguished.

It wasn't a courageous decision, because to feel courage, she needed to feel anything at all. Instead, she was numb after hours of fear-induced adrenaline. Lethargy swamped her, and below it ran a jittery undercurrent, a low-level buzzing in her brain that was probably a distant echo of panic. Yet she made the decision anyway: she was going to find a way out of here, or die trying.

She fumbled for a light switch, fingers exploring the wall until she found it. The room was not what she expected when illuminated, more a hotel suite than a prison cell. She quickly explored the space, examining the limits of her confinement. From the door, a short hallway led into the main room, furnished with a king-sized bed, sofa, wardrobe and a small breakfast bar. The wardrobe was empty, even of coat hangers. The counter lacked a coffee maker, but she did have a plasma screen on the wall, and a small bookcase. The tumbler left on top of the mini fridge was plastic rather than glass, and when she gave it an experimental toss against the wall, it refused to crack. With that established, she quenched her thirst with a Coke—grumbling at the lack of alcohol—and kept searching.

A small hatch was set into one wall, and when she strode over to investigate, it opened to reveal a dumbwaiter. She'd never seen one in real life, only in movies where they got used as escape routes. This one was too small for her to get into. On the tray inside lay a room service menu and a pencil, tied down on a chain like the ones in banks. She tossed it down and resumed her investigation.

Heavy drapes covered the windows. She crossed to yank them open, but found the glass behind boarded over with steel. She had nothing to try and pry the steel away with, though that didn't stop her trying until her fingertips bruised.

Her next stop was the bathroom. It was smart, clean, sterile, devoid of scissors or blades. It was styled as wet room, with one tiled corner comprising a shower. No shower screen, no rod, no tub. They'd only left towels and bottles of luxury toiletries. The small first-aid kit in the cabinet contained gauze and band-aids, acid indigestion pills and two pathetic painkillers. He'd known what she'd try and do.

Darcy took the towels back out to the bedroom, sizing them up against the bedsheets. She only had the most rudimentary idea of how to hang herself, and this room did not provide the opportunity. There was nothing to fasten a noose to—the spotlights lay flush against the ceiling—and as the sofa was the only chair, she couldn't kick it out from under herself.

She'd covered most of the suite and been thwarted at every turn. There was one last door to try—a sturdy exterior door that she guessed was for the fire escape. She'd left it for last with the assumption it was going to be locked and guarded like the other.

She tested the handle, and when it snagged open, she held her breath, expecting to find a soldier on the other side, ready to shove her back into the room and fix the error.

Instead, she found stairs.

Even from the bottom of them, Darcy could feel the breeze and knew she was tasting fresh air. It didn't make any sense—why lock her away and then leave her an exit? Loki wouldn't make a mistake like that. She crept up the concrete steps, listening for other sounds and pausing at the top when she reached another door. At first she thought it was painted black, but a hand on its glassy surface told her she was staring out at the night.

She wrenched it open, spilling out in a tangle of limbs before someone came along to yank her back inside. She was on the rooftop, the vast night sky sprawling out above her, stars failing to compete with the glow Manhattan cast upwards. Around her, flowers slumbered in the dark. He'd created a garden up here, pots and planters covering the concrete. She turned in place, seeking the edge—her last hope a glorious swan-dive into oblivion. Instead, she found more steel bolted in place, ten feet high around the entire perimeter. There was no way to climb it and no way for her to see beyond it. She couldn't even place herself in the city—all she knew was that this building didn't stand in the shadow of any close by. Nor was there any sign of the fire escape she'd been hoping to find. There was no way off this roof except back down the stairs into her suite.

That was it, then. She had to live.

There was a kind of disappointment to failing in her quest, one completely at odds with the part of her that had no desire to die. She'd failed in her goal and had probably failed humanity in the process. Yet, she was more relieved than anything, and piss-her-pants terrified. She got to live, which she wanted to do more than anything, but she had no idea what she was going to live through. Based on Loki's initial approach—all this luxury, the courtesy—then she should expect mind games. They'd be his specialty, right? When he really started playing, she'd crack and fall apart, and it would have been better to have bled out on the white tiles of the bathroom floor.

She'd already cracked a little. The proof of that came in the way she was kneeling on the concrete, bawling her eyes out. She hadn't cried like this once since he'd become Emperor, sparing only a prickling of her eyes when she heard about Thor. He was more deserving of her tears, but here she was, shedding them in self-pity. And Loki would see this, he had to, because there was no way the rooftop wasn't being watched. He'd see how easily broken she was and use it against her.

When she woke, she couldn't even remember how she'd made it back to the bed. She hadn't even bothered undressing, it seemed, and her clothes were a crumpled mess. They weren't exactly what she'd have wanted to be taken captive in, since they were a costume. Only the Chucks discarded on the floor were hers.

In the dumbwaiter she found clean clothes. Hers, from her apartment. Darcy would've preferred to stay in what she wore—her things felt tainted now. She'd known Loki had been in her apartment; he'd said as much yesterday, but for him to take her belongings and pass them back to her like gifts was an insult. He was flaunting his power over her.

When she returned from her shower, the red only just fading from her eyes, breakfast had arrived too. Plastic cutlery only. Loki really wasn't taking any chances. She could hurt herself with them, if she really wanted to, but they were useless as tools on steel.

She had little to do with her time except watch TV and read the books on offer…and wait for Loki's next move. She kept formulating escape plans in her mind—distracting the guards outside the door, pretending to be taken violently ill, anything to get out of this trap of a suite—but when she rapped on the door and called through it, she got no response.

She tried the garden again in the daylight. It was breathtaking in the morning, with dew still dripping from petals. There weren't just flowers, but shrubs and small trees, a dwarf flowering cherry scattering pink blossom over the ground in one corner. Her mom was an avid gardener but Darcy didn't recognize some of the plants—not the gold-hued, trumpet-headed flowers that came up to her waist, or the ones that looked like English bluebells, but with heads the size of her fist. Scents competed for her attention, blending together to create the kind of perfume women spent good money on to wear on their skin. It was supposed to be a peaceful place, she supposed, a sanctuary of a kind, but her reflection in the steel reminded her of its true purpose as a cage.

Time moved even more slowly than it had at the facility. There, she'd had constant human contact—to the point where she'd often had to seek solitude in her room. Now, she saw no one, the dumbwaiter her only link with other people. She took to scribbling notes on the menu, but while they complied with her more reasonable requests—magazines and movies—they never responded to her words directly. At this point she had no idea who 'they' even were.

The only faces she saw were on the TV screen, in mind-numbing repeats of sitcoms and reality shows. Three days in, and she was desperate for someone to talk to. This was why solitary confinement got used as a punishment.

The bed was lush, but she'd have given anything to trade it for the narrow cot, and her half-finished blanket. She asked through the door for knitting needles, but her request got ignored. Every so often, the dumbwaiter would crank into life, sending up more clothes, her own books and DVDS, and three meals a day. She still had nothing to hang the clothes up with, but if they wanted her alive they weren't going to provide hangers. When the heavens opened she was stuck inside, but when the sky was clear she took to the garden. Even bees didn't visit her there, but she could close her eyes and listen to the bustle of the city around, horns beeping a mile below.

On the fourth day, she opened her eyes to find Loki sat across from her.

She only just contained her curse, biting down hard on her lip to stop it slipping out. He watched her, expression veiled. She clutched the arms of her lawn chair and sat up straight.

"You are enjoying our hospitality?" he asked, fingers idly trailing over the petals of a bellflower.

She nodded mutely, focusing on the movement of his hands rather than look at his face. He wore a suit this time, the ends of his hair blending into the black of the fabric. It had grown longer, the choppy cut falling into softer curls now.

"I am glad. You only need ask and we shall provide. Except," he held up one finger with a wry smile, "freedom. You are safer here, under our watch."

Darcy didn't feel safer.

With a twist of his hand, two cups materialized from thin air, filled with a caramel liquid. He held one out to her. She didn't move to take it, and with an elegant shrug, he set it down beside her. "You should try it. I searched hard to find the right ingredients to make it. There is nothing on Midgard like_ hunangbrugga_." She caught the scent of honey and spices. Her mouth wanted it, but her stomach rolled in rebellion.

He sipped at the drink for a moment, then peered at her over the rim of the glass. "You are awfully quiet. That is not like you—or so I am told." He paused, waiting for an answer. This time, she couldn't remain silent. His expression demanded a response.

"I don't know what you want from me."

His laugh was soft, creeping across her skin like a thousand tiny caresses. "My dear, I don't want anything from you. Is it not enough that you forget about the world and enjoy what I'm providing for you?" He took another sip and licked his lips. "There is wealth in this kind of peace."

She wanted to scream at him that she hadn't known peace since he'd found her, but instead she knotted her fingers together and dug her nails into her palms. Apparently her survival instinct was stronger than she'd known.

He sighed. "Very well. I shall leave you with your thoughts. Perhaps more reading material will soften your mood?" She blinked and he'd disappeared. Only the cup beside her chair hinted he'd even been there.

Now he was gone, she was tempted by it. She reached down to pick it up, the unfamiliar scent catching in her throat. He'd been so eager for her to try it.

She stopped with the rim an inch from her mouth. Then she poured it away into the nearest trencher.

This garden couldn't be real. She was a prisoner, not a guest, no matter what Loki pretended. Only now did Darcy realize how absurd it was, like the moment in a dream where she'd recognize she wasn't experiencing reality. She'd known Loki would play mind games, but what if that wasn't all? They controlled all her food and drink; it all came up in the dumbwaiter, plated up ready for her to eat. She had no idea what was going into it.

When her evening meal arrived, she flushed it away in the bathroom.

She survived the next day, and the one after that, drinking tap water, ignoring her rumbling belly. Loki did not return, and she was grateful, because she was free to scour the rooftop for edible items without interruption. She'd hoped for one of the shrubs to offer berries, or one of the potted trees to bear fruit, but the garden was ornamental. Even if the berries were poisonous, she'd have taken them. At least a purge would force whatever drugs they'd given her out her system faster. That was why she drank so much water—it wasn't just to keep full, but to wash everything out.

Her suspicions about being watched proved true. While she was in the garden, she never heard a sound from her rooms, but when she headed down the steps, fresh towels would be bundled in the bathroom, and the bedsheets changed. Her laundry was taken and exchanged with clean clothes, the mini fridge was restocked and the carpet vacuumed. They'd taken to leaving food out too.

By the fifth day of her fast, the garden was still there. She'd expected it to fade, to crawl up the steps one morning to find bare concrete awaiting her, but it never went away.

She started eating again.

He came back twice, offering her the drink, and the second time she tried it, because why not? It was good, though she'd have preferred Starbucks, and she remained resolutely silent in his presence. He seemed content to sit and drink with her, vanishing when his cup was empty, leaving her confused as to why he'd even bothered. He didn't ask questions. He didn't ask anything of her.

The waiting was unbearable. Whatever he was going to do, she wished he would get the hell on with it. At least then she'd have something to focus on other than her boredom, and her shredded nerves could find relief.

She'd been there for perhaps two weeks and was taking advantage of a sunny day to read a book of fairy tales she'd been gifted. Not her preferred genre, but the reading material she'd been left was clearly curated by Loki and leaned towards folklore and the macabre. This volume stuck close to the original Grimm stories, neatly combining the two. Rapunzel's pregnancy had just been discovered by the old witch, who'd cut off her hair and cast her out of the tower. The prince was coming to visit Rapunzel, completely unaware of the trap he was walking into.

Darcy snapped the book shut. She was Rapunzel, or at least Rapunzel's severed hair. She was _bait_.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

* * *

**I haz new beta! Yes, that makes four, but I'm greedy. And I make a lot of typos. Round of applause for Octoberland!**


	10. Thief in the Night

**A/N: Sorry for the delay...this chapter was like getting blood out of a stone to write.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Thief in the Night**

Darcy woke to muffled footsteps and a flash of red in her peripheral vision.

She lay frozen in place, thinking it was another waking dream. She'd had so many of those lately; the impression of someone in the room, gone before she could muster her eyes open. But tonight, between one blink and the next, a shadow appeared at her bedside. It loomed over her, fierce eyes staring down.

"Natasha?" she whispered. She scrambled to sit up, until the blade at her throat stilled her.

"What's your room number in the facility?" Natasha asked, her words barely an exhale.

"Th-thirty-one."

"What's the pattern on the item you were making?"

"The blanket? There isn't one…"

Natasha nodded and removed the blade. "I had to check." She reached for the pile of folded laundry on the counter and tossed some clothes over to the bed.

Darcy remembered her revelation and shot upright. "No, no,_ no_—you can't be here! This is a trap. This is what he wants!"

"You think I don't know that? That's why it's taken three weeks to come up with a plan to get you out. I'm no fool. Can you walk?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. He was never after me at all."

"Darcy, get dressed. We've prepared for this. We waited until Loki was out of town. This isn't a big rescue mission involving all the Avengers. Everything will go smoothly so long as we're out of here_ immediately_."

She dressed in record time, logic chasing the last of sleep out of her head. It didn't matter if this was a trap—Natasha was here now, so either Darcy was going to escape, or she was going to gain a cellmate.

Outside the door, the two guards slumbered on the carpet. Natasha made no effort to creep around them. "They'll be out until the relief shift arrives in the morning."

"What about the cameras? Everywhere up here is watched…"

"Right now a loop of the last hour is playing in the security control room. They won't even realize you're gone until the morning."

They ignored the elevator, heading for the stairs, and Darcy had an overwhelming sense of deja vu. By the time they'd gone down ten flights, Darcy was regretting that the elevator was unavailable to them. At least if the stairs melted again they could slide all the way down. Natasha kept darting back and forth, gun posed steady in her hand, her thighs apparently not suffering quite as much as Darcy's were.

To Darcy's horror, they kept going below even when they'd reached ground level, down into the basements. "Please not more tunnels."

"Don't worry," Natasha muttered. "Stay here." They'd reached an exit door. Natasha peered through the glass, then disappeared through the door so swiftly Darcy barely saw her move. A moment later she returned. "Clear."

Darcy followed her, not in the parking lot she feared, but a corridor. Natasha led her in through the third door, which turned out to be a janitorial closet. She retrieved a supply box from a shelf and began to pass items to Darcy. "Put these on." She pulled a tiny device from her boot—it looked like a credit card with a screen—and swept it over Darcy from head-to-toe. She seemed satisfied with whatever it told her. "They haven't chipped you," she explained. "There'd be no point taking you anywhere if they could track you."

They covered their clothes in cleaner's aprons and covered their hair with caps. Darcy stashed her glasses in a pocket, and Natasha handed her a pass. "These will get us out of the building."

"You played dress-up a ton as a kid, huh?"

Natasha gave her a blank look. "I don't know." She opened the closet door and crept back out. Darcy followed, for the first time feeling sorry for her. She'd meant it as a joke, not really expecting an answer at all, and while Natasha's demeanor hadn't invited pity, the implications of her words did. She'd never revealed anything about herself—all Darcy knew about her was her name and her poorly-concealed soft spot for Clint. But exactly how did someone become a superspy? Every one of the Avengers had a backstory—and Darcy had never heard Natasha's. She doubted she ever would. "The next shift change is in fifteen minutes, we're leaving with them."

They headed back up, using a service elevator this time, Natasha acting like she'd been in the building some time, she knew the layout so well. It wasn't entirely outside the realms of possibility. When they were on the ground floor the hush of the building vanished, clear sounds of occupation replacing it. Footsteps echoed from other corridors, and the rumble of traffic passed close by.

They emerged into a small lobby, manned only by a security guard. A clock on the wall told Darcy it was approaching 4am and it took a lot of willpower to keep from swaying on her feet. Knowing the time made her suddenly very tired.

Other cleaners were just disappearing through a door onto the street. The guard shouted over to them. "You! Paperwork says only four cleaners on tonight." If Darcy had been forced to place his accent, she'd have said Eastern Europe.

Natasha sauntered over, and when she spoke, her words were accented as thickly as his. "Supervisor fucked up our shifts. We worked all night and don't even know if we're going to get paid."

"Again? Second time this week—she needs firing. _Ty russkiy?_"

_"Da._" She gestured vaguely in Darcy's direction. _"She's Polish. Her English is non-existent—and her Russian is even worse._" She was wrong, though it wasn't the time to point out that Darcy had taken two Russian classes in college and could just about follow the conversation.

_"I need you to sign the form,_" he said, "_so I can get this mess sorted._"

"_Sure._" Natasha scribbled something down then walked away, jerking her head to indicate Darcy should follow. They exited through the revolving door, stepping out onto a street where dawn was still some hours away yet.

She recognized where they were immediately, even if she didn't know exactly which building they'd just exited. It took up the entire block, a grander entrance visible on the corner, where the street met First Avenue. Over the Avenue she could see the United Nations complex—a place she'd often visited when she moved to New York, even if she'd never gone inside. The usual rows of flags had disappeared, flagpoles standing empty, where a higher one had been raised to loom above them all. A horned serpent of gold twined around itself on a viridian background, gusting out over the roof of the complex.

Natasha led her away from the plaza, back towards the heart of Manhattan. Few people were around at this hour, though a steady stream of cars drove past.

"That almost seemed too easy," Darcy said.

"We still have to get off Manhattan first."

"How are we doing that this time?"

"The subway."

"You never struck me as the type to use public transport, Agent Romanoff." Loki appeared on the sidewalk in front of them, lounging against a street light. He was less casually dressed than Darcy had seen him in some time, back in the full leathers he'd worn when he announced he was taking over the world. He cocked his head. "Sorry, _ex_-agent Romanoff."

Natasha's gun had been in her hands before he'd finished his third word, though Darcy didn't think it would do them any good. She backed behind her anyway, just to be on the safe side. "Cover on East 45th," she said quietly. Her voice betrayed none of the terror Darcy felt.

"Then again, you never struck me as the type to work for no pay," Loki continued, as if Natasha hadn't said anything at all. "Still trying to wash away the red?" He pushed himself away from the post. "Such discourtesy." This time he addressed Darcy. "To leave without saying goodbye, after all I had done to make you at home. Did you really think I wouldn't notice your absence?"

"How did you—"

"You're so peaceful in sleep. I like to remind myself of that, sometimes, since all you offer me in wakefulness is sullen silence." He caught the arrow that span towards him easily, and Darcy reflexively looked towards the sky. Clint was somewhere nearby. Loki tossed the arrow away, but wasn't quick enough to avoid the one that came on its heels. It pierced the leather of his sleeve and he hissed a curse.

Natasha pushed her away, running back in the direction they came, and Darcy felt the sidewalk rock beneath her feet as the arrow exploded behind them. She stumbled and Natasha kept her upright with a hand on her arm, pulling her along. Somehow Loki was in front of them again, his armor a wreck but his skin unmarred. Natasha veered away, pulling them into the road. Headlamps blinded Darcy, and a blaring horn warned they were in the path of a car.

The world moved too quickly—she was yanked off her feet, then landed on her front with the sidewalk below her. Natasha never hit the ground fully—she rolled and stayed upright. A horrible crunching sound came from behind Darcy, like metal and stone colliding. She rolled over, still dazed and half-blinded, to find the front end of a cab wrapped around Loki. To his credit, he was mostly upright and looking less smushed than Darcy would've expected. Clint took the opportunity to loose another arrow his way.

"Come on." Natasha urged Darcy to her feet and they ran again, despite the jelly-like consistency of her legs. She wasn't exactly sure what had just happened. She'd been pulled out of the path of the cab—and while logic dictated Natasha had done it, the force behind the way she'd been pulled made it unlikely she was strong enough. That theory also didn't explain why Loki had been in the middle of the road. Had he pulled them away?

They took the first right, and then into a building, Natasha backhanding the doorman before he could react. They sped down the stairs into the basement, and once more Darcy found herself entering a tunnel below the city.

Again, Natasha seemed to know the way, which was helpful because Darcy couldn't see a thing. They walked for what could have been five, fifteen or fifty minutes, time meaningless without a reference point, before Natasha halted. They'd reached a door—an ordinary, unassuming fire door—and Natasha disappeared through it, leaving Darcy to wait in the blackness. She returned with a rucksack, pulling her hair free of the cleaner's cap and discarding of the apron too. Out came a dress and a brunette wig for her, with a change of clothes for Darcy too.

"Turn around," she said, and Darcy complied, letting her deftly plait her hair. No wig for her, for which she was thankful.

They left the cleaner's stuff behind in the tunnel, sneaking into the basement beyond the door, which turned out to be another underground parking lot. Natasha surveyed the cars, selecting a black SUV, and had it unlocked and running by some voodoo in under a minute. Darcy headed for the passenger seat, but Natasha stopped her.

"You need to drive, I need to cover us."

"What about Clint?"

"He's got another mission in the city."

"Right. Where are we going?"

"It doesn't matter. We just need to get off the island before any blockades are in place."

Darcy's grip on the steering wheel was shaky. Dawn was just about creeping up over the skyscrapers, giving them flashes of cerulean every time they passed between them. Natasha gave directions and Darcy followed, too tired and bewildered to argue. "Where are we going when we're out of Manhattan?"

"Back to the facility."

"You guys didn't leave?"

"Tony's got back into SHIELD's systems. We were ready to leave if they were coming for us, but they never did. You didn't give us up." An expression close to pride hovered on Natasha's face.

"He never asked me where you were."

The pride gave way to something shrewder. "Then what did he ask you for?"

"Nothing. That was the weirdest thing—I barely saw him and he never asked me any questions."

"Yet he liked to watch you sleep and just threw himself in front of a moving vehicle to save your life."

"What are you saying?"

Natasha gave her a sideways glance.

"Oh, come on. Eric told me how Loki sees us. Ants."

"And yet."

"No. _No._ That's gross. Besides, he never tried anything…that wasn't what he wanted. I was bait. That's all."

"That's all," Natasha echoed.

They didn't speak again until they reached Queens. Darcy tried to absorb herself in freedom—how lovely it was to be on the expressway, to get glimpses of the wooden houses around the borough, to not be surrounded by steel sheeting. Anything better than to think about Natasha's suggestion. Which was completely absurd. He'd looked at her with such hatred the first time he'd laid eyes on her, and he barely knew her. The only thing that would interest him in her was connection to Thor, Jane and the Avengers.

In Queens, they abandoned the car and borrowed a new one, another SUV, which Natasha switched the plates on. Natasha drove this time, letting Darcy catch up on her interrupted sleep. She napped until they stopped at a gas station, where Natasha procured caffeine and bagels. Then it was back on the freeway, heading north again, and back to blessedly dreamless sleep.

Only when Natasha shook her awake, back in the confines of the rickety garage, did it finally feel like she'd escaped. The shadows and cobwebs didn't scare her anymore, instead seeming like old friends. She practically skipped down the steps into the facility, turning the corner to find a few of its inhabitants waiting with wide eyes.

"Welcome back," said Steve. "You look well."

"Bruce is fetching Jane," Pepper breathed, pulling Darcy into a hug.

"He's here?" she asked.

"We needed him," Tony explained. "We're nearly there."

"With the Bifrost?"

"Of course. I'm a little disappointed in myself it's taken this long."

The door at the end of the corridor opened, and Jane peeked through. Darcy gave her a wave. "Honey, I'm home!"

Jane came sprinting up, nearly barreling Darcy over when she reached her and taking her in a hug so tight she nearly choked. "I thought I'd lost you too," she whispered tearfully, and then Darcy was crying too.

"It's okay. I'm okay."

"No, it's not okay. I'm sick of Loki doing what he wants, hurting who he wants. When we finish the Bifrost, we're going to find out what happened to Thor. Then we're going to take Loki down. For good."


	11. Breakthroughs

**A/N: Someone remind me on my next story not to use chapter titles, okay? Thinking those up is the hardest part of writing.**

**I tried to get away with a little bit of pseudo-scientific babble in this chapter a la Doctor Who. Alas, one of my betas is a fan of black holes, if physical phenomena can have fans, and another is a physicist-in-training so that wasn't going to wash. Extra special thanks to Jen (Octoberland) this chapter for an email that helped me craft a few passages that will, hopefully, not have the scientifically clued-up among you wanting to punch your computers.**

**To make sure this is a well-round thanks, I'll say it to all my betas: Jen, Lindsey, Twiggy and Rhi.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Breakthroughs**

"So he really didn't hurt you?" Pepper asked for the tenth time.

"I'm_ fine_. Not a scratch," Darcy replied. She wiggled her fingers and swung her legs to show how whole she was.

"You don't have to be brave, you know,"Pepper responded with a sympathetic tilt of the head. Darcy wondered if she'd been on a therapy course to learn it. "We'd all completely support you whatever you needed to tell us."

"Seriously, he didn't lay a finger on me. But I did miss you guys."

Natasha paced at the foot of the stairs, beyond the knot the group had formed around Darcy. Waiting for Clint to return, probably. Darcy finished her last round of hugs and promised to meet Jane in the common room.

Everyone else returned to whatever they'd been doing, and Darcy shuffled over to Natasha.

"I just wanted to say thanks."

Whatever Darcy had expected, it wasn't confusion. "What for?" Natasha asked. At least she'd stopped wearing a hole in the floor tiles.

"Y'know. Rescuing me. Putting your life in danger to protect mine."

"Oh." Natasha thought for a moment. "I don't think anyone's ever thanked me before. Not in words. Usually they pay me."

"I can only afford to pay you in knitted goods—"

"No, I'm not saying that. It's just strange to me. You're part of the team, so of course one of us would come for you, and I was the only one here who was going to do it without blowing up half of Manhattan." She paused, considering her next words. "You're welcome."

Darcy briefly considered a hug, then thought better of it. Instead she gave an awkward wave and headed for the common room.

While they waited for Clint's return, Darcy met Bruce, and Jane went through the breakthroughs they'd made with four of them working on the project. She'd retreated back into her safe, astrophysics-shaped shell, where emotions couldn't touch her. Darcy nodded along to her science babble, only understanding every tenth word and wondering if anyone had curtailed Jane's caffeine intake in Darcy's absence. The rings under her eyes were edging towards raccoon territory; it was likely she'd only slept when her body had refused to stay awake anymore.

"It really helped having other perspectives on this—Tony's an engineer at heart and Bruce's background is in nuclear physics, so they were looking at it from different angles to me and Erik. They proposed we try the Morris-Thorne model instead. It helped we had the footprint for the original Bifrost from my old research and SHIELD's records—we could look at the readings and try to replicate those. Bruce is working on a model right now that will create a miniature bridge within the lab, and if that works we just need to ensure we can control it and scale it up."

"Didn't Bruce's last big experiment go…very wrong?"

"He'll be the only person in the lab when it's running. The rest of us will be observing from outside. His genetic mutation will protect him from any adverse side effects…unless, of course, we accidentally create a black hole in the process. That's pretty unlikely—the precautions we've taken with negative charges…"

Darcy felt it kindest to let Jane ramble, and ignored the alarm bells the words "black hole" set off in her head. At least this was a break from work for Jane.

"Bike on the drive," Steve shouted across the common room. While Darcy was away, Tony had assembled a computer out here and rigged up a security system, with cameras watching the entire estate and feeding in. It meant no more perimeter searches, and the system was easy enough to handle that Steve could monitor it.

"Is it him?" Natasha appeared out of nowhere. She didn't wait for an answer, peering at the screen before turning and vaulting herself up the stairs. They all clustered around to watch her appear on the road before the motorbike, which had to spin to avoid hitting her. It had barely stopped moving before she had a knife to the rider's throat, repeating the question-and-answer routine she'd gone through with Darcy. Evidently satisfied, she let the rider off and follow her back inside.

When Clint appeared at the bottom of the stairs, apparently unscathed, the tension in the room burst like a balloon.

"Did you get it?" Tony asked.

"Of course," he replied. He tossed a disk over to Tony and slouched onto the sofa. "Loki was too busy searching for our little fugitive to pay attention to other security breaches. You make an excellent diversionary tactic, Darcy."

"She's not a tactic," Erik growled.

"I know she's not. Getting the disk was just a bonus. Who wants pizza—I always feel pizza rounds off a successful mission, you know?"

"We have no pizza," Pepper pointed out.

"Good job I picked some up then. It's on the back of the bike—Tash is inspecting it in case Loki's going to somehow use it to infiltrate us, but when she's satisfied she'll bring it down."

As if on cue, she entered with a stack of pizza boxes, and everyone cheered. Darcy helped Pepper hand out plates, and they all gathered at the table to eat. Even Jane seemed to relax.

"What's on the disk?" Darcy asked after she'd inhaled her first slice.

"It's a copy of some files I'm having trouble accessing via the usual methods," said Tony. "Look likes SHIELD finally got someone who actually knows a thing or two about server security on their staff. This ought to tell us what Loki's been up to lately."

"We really need to put all our effort into the bridge," said Jane. "We're so close, we don't want to lose momentum now."

Tony shrugged. "It'll take me twenty minutes."

Jane bristled but didn't speak again.

When the pizza was annihilated, Tony brought out a small stash of booze, and the gathering turned into a party—a chilled-out, mostly sober party with no music, but fun nonetheless. They played Blackjack for literal peanuts, then Natasha showed them a stack of board games in a supply cupboard, and the Avengers settled down to the most argued over game of Monopoly in history. Jane disappeared long before that happened, and Erik caught Darcy's eyes, letting her know he'd be the one to take care of her that night.

It was the most fun and the most peace Darcy had known since the invasion, but it didn't last when she crawled into her cot after midnight. Then her thoughts were free to meander as much as they wanted.

It seemed where they most wanted to go was back to that conversation with Natasha. She tried to think of other things: what she could knit with the limited yarn she had left, what she was going to do when the yarn ran out, how much taking up training with Steve again was going to hurt after three weeks of sitting on her butt. But her mind would not be corralled, and soon she was fretting over Natasha's words.

_"Yet he liked to watch you sleep and just threw himself in front of a moving vehicle to save your life."_

The first part was admittedly creepy, and Loki had owned up to that creepiness. It made Darcy's skin crawl thinking about how he'd been there in the night, when she'd been unaware and unable to defend herself.

_Defend yourself, how?_

Maybe he just understood the Avengers too well and knew Natasha would come for her in the night. The second part didn't mean much of anything. It hadn't harmed Loki to take the hit from the cab, but he knew she'd be hospitalized or worse. All it meant was she wasn't just bait—she had a bigger part to play. What part that might be, she couldn't fathom. Didn't want to fathom.

Why, then, the luxury he'd shown her? Why, if he only intended to keep her captive, had he visited her? He could have left her there until he actually needed her, but he'd come to her on the rooftop all those times.

The last time had been a cloudy day, with the threat of rain in the air, but the open air was preferable to Darcy than the confines of her room. She'd been reading, as ever, and didn't bother to look up when she sensed his presence: a whisper across her skin. If he wanted her attention, he'd demand it.

"You should wrap up warmer," he said, and she finally glanced up. Her cup was resting on the armrest of her chair, waiting for her to drink. He was dressed in earth colors today: shades of brown and moss green that suited the backdrop of the garden. His skin didn't look nearly so pale as it did against the black.

"I'm fine," she replied. He ignored her; a moment later he was draping a thin blanket over her knees. It was the closest he'd come to her since he'd left her in the suite that first night, and she held her breath, unsure if the spice filling her senses were from the cup, from him, or both. It took too long for her liking—he tucked it in around her thighs, hands never touching her directly but coming so close. The blanket was gold. Naturally.

He lifted his own cup when he sat back down. "You're a child of the desert. The climate here is quite different."

"I don't mind the cold."

For some reason, this amused him, a smile creeping over his lips. "I'm glad to hear it." Darcy was never sure if she preferred Loki with a smile or not. If she didn't know who he was, she could describe him as handsome; cut from a completely different cloth to Thor, but not without his charms. The smile softened the angles of his face and also hinted at a wickedness that probably translated well in the bedroom. However, knowing exactly who he was and what he was capable of dampened the effect.

With the hint of spice still teasing her, she picked up her cup, replacing it on the armrest with her book. His gaze dropped to the title. "_The Pantheon of the Greek Gods_. I'm unfamiliar with this branch of Midgardian mythology."

"It's more interesting than the Norse myths."

He laughed, a sound that seemed to creep everywhere at once, bolder than his fingers had been. "I'm sure you'd find the truth more interesting. I can tell you, if you'd like."

"I'm good."

He shrugged. "You only need ask if you change your mind." A moment later he was crouched beside her chair, in front of a trough of fluffy flowers. "These are blooming marvelously." They were like dandelion clocks, only three times the size and silkier, the silver stems reaching up to Darcy's knees. "I didn't know how well they would fare here." He set his cup on her armrest and plucked one of the flower heads off, holding it out to her. "You can take blossoms downstairs to brighten your chambers, if you wish."

It was so big she needed to put her cup down beside his, the pair balanced precariously on top of the book, to cradle it in both hands. He gazed up at her from under mile-long eyelashes, some unfathomable expression on his face. She sat there awkwardly until Loki stood back up, took his cup, downed the contents and disappeared.

She hadn't been sure what to make of that episode, other than he was a strange fish. Giving her the flower could be construed as an artless attempt at courtship, but if all the stories about Loki were true, he'd have more game than any man she'd ever met. He'd had a thousand years to work on it. Besides which, he didn't need to court her at all. He could have threatened her family until she did what he wanted, or easily overpowered her, or just plain old mind-wiped her like he'd once done with Erik.

She was really thankful he hadn't done any of those things.

There was also no reason at all for him to pick her. It wasn't like they had an actual history. He'd never officially met her before he kidnapped her, and he definitely hadn't become enamored of her across the parking lot during the first escape. It had been shitty lighting, for a start.

Darcy wasn't completely lacking in self-esteem. She had her assets—not just the things men usually went for first, but a pretty face and a decent mind. She spoke four languages and had ended up in minoring in data engineering. She could dance, and sing well enough to not be painful at karaoke. She was honest, and funny, and easy-going. Any man would be lucky to have her. Somehow she didn't think any of that was what Loki wanted in a woman. He'd put politics before personal preferences—a woman from a wealthy or royal family—and if his aesthetic ideals had been shaped by his upbringing on Asgard, then she didn't fit. He'd want tall, athletic, someone strong to bear his heir. Conversational skills would be bottom of the list, because it wouldn't be like he'd actually want to talk to a human being—his attempts with her aside.

Nothing added up.

With sleep evading her, she got up and headed to the common room. At first she was going to turn on the TV, or maybe see if she could access the internet through the computer. It definitely had a connection; she'd just need to figure out how to get through the security Tony had put in place. For a moment, she was tempted—her family still didn't know whether she was dead or alive, unless Loki had been to terrorize them for information—but she'd spent too much time killing her Sims to learn the skills she needed to take Tony on.

Instead, she wandered on, down the corridor to the lab. She could tell the lights were on from outside, and knew who she'd find inside.

"Can I come in?" she called through the door after knocking.

"Sure," replied Jane.

Darcy entered to find her tapping numbers into one of her machines. "I can do that for you."

Jane didn't look up. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Shouldn't you?"

"Sleep is not my friend lately."

"You should try. You're more likely to make mistakes this way."

"I don't make mistakes," Jane snapped. She paused, sighed, and finally raised her head. "Sorry. I'm too wired to sleep. I have to keep going. I can sleep again when I know."

"When you know wha—oh. Thor."

Jane flinched at the name. It was probably the first time she'd heard it in weeks. "That's why I can't sleep. He's all I dream about, and I don't mean the good kind of dreams." She saved her work and turned the screen off, rubbing her eyes. "Did Loki talk about him at all?"

"No."

"Did you ask?" she said fervently.

"I'm sorry—I didn't speak to him much…"

"Do you think he did kill him?"

Darcy wanted to say no. She wanted to say _"Of course not. They're brothers—Loki wouldn't kill him on purpose."_ But they'd both know it was a lie; they'd both been there the first time Loki had tried to kill Thor, very deliberately, with the Destroyer. Darcy was too honest for that, and Jane wouldn't swallow the lie anyway.

"I don't know, but I don't think so. I mean, I don't know him, but he seemed too calm in New York. It'd affect him somehow, right?"

"He will. Soon. We all will."

"And you can't have let him drive you into an early grave before you do. Come on, let's get some cocoa. Somewhere on the planet there's got to be a live feed of something we can watch—it's already morning in Australia."

Jane rose from her seat and crossed to Darcy's side, flipping the lights off. "It'd be nice not to think for a while."

The security computer was closed down, which Jane said meant Clint had taken the night watch, high up on the roof of the old house where he could see for miles around. They ended the night snuggled under Darcy's blanket. Jane succumbed to her exhaustion before she did, but she followed soon after, the closeness a refreshing change from the isolation she'd had in abundance lately.

* * *

Darcy woke with a crick in her neck, but after the best night's sleep she'd had in a while. Jane was gone—Darcy didn't need ten guesses to figure out where—and Steve was back at the computer, reading a book.

"Morning," she greeted, when the power of speech had returned. "For breakfast I will mainly be having coffee."

"Better not. We're nearly out."

"Guess I need to do a supply run soon."

"I don't think that's your job, anymore." Steve gave her a kind smile. "Not when we know Loki is searching for you. Clint took over as Natasha's tagalong."

"Great." While Darcy was thankful she didn't have to do that anymore—there was no guarantee getting caught the second time would be as peaceful as the first—it also meant she was stuck inside, underground. She'd already been cooped up for three weeks and was now facing longer without even the sky above the roof garden to make up for it.

"Tony's called a meeting in a half hour."

"Tony did?" she asked. That was too organized for Tony.

"Pepper called a meeting and told Tony he was running it. Apparently he's got something he needs to go through with us all."

Darcy had managed to shower by that time and was back on the sofa, demolishing Nutella on toast. The other members of the team gradually arrived, stragglers rounded up by Pepper, Jane arriving last of all. Tony showed the telltale signs of lack of sleep as much as she did.

"Tell them what you told me," Pepper instructed.

"Did we really have to do it this way?"

"Yes. We all need to know."

"Fine. I got into the disk," his expression made it clear it'd been a certainty, "so we know what's on it now."

"And?" Pepper prompted. "Tell them about Fury."

"Yeah, this is the stuff they really didn't want us knowing. For a start, Fury's not a prisoner anymore. He's Director of SHIELD again."

The room went so quiet Darcy stopped chewing, conscious of how loud it sounded.

"Do we know why?" Natasha asked. She hadn't made any attempt to deny the likelihood of such a thing.

"No. Could be blackmail, could be mind control."

"Blackmailing Fury would just piss him off," said Clint.

"And we've seen no evidence of mind control this time around," said Natasha.

"I'm just telling you what the disk says. It's up to the superspies to figure out the whys. That's not the only thing—there are blueprints for new weapons. Some are pretty sophisticated, although I could improve them on almost every detail." Pepper cleared her throat before he could go off on a tangent. "There are comprehensive training plans and schedules for every army on Earth to learn how to use these weapons, and compulsory drafts are being implemented in places that don't have a standing army, or where the army is too small. Existing soldiers are being sent to centralized coordination points across the globe. It'd make sense if Loki was trying to control the population, if these points were anywhere near major population centers. They're more—" He stopped and turned to the computer, bringing up an image of a soccer ball. "You see where each of the sections meet? Imagine a military base at each one. On land, in the ocean, in the Arctic and Antarctic—they're all equally spaced out, practicality be damned."

"What about food and supplies?" asked Natasha.

"There are plans in place to increase production and stockpile non-perishables too."

"It's like he's planning for war," said Steve. "Do you think there's a rebellion about to happen?"

"Not rebellion, no." All eyes turned to Natasha. "He's not expecting war from within. This is all defensive—"

"—like he's preparing for a siege," said Darcy.

"You think he knows about the Bifrost?" asked Jane.

"If he thought we were about to make contact with Asgard, why bother stockpiling food?" said Pepper. "He doesn't need it. He's preparing us."

"Exactly," agreed Natasha. "And what is Fury's objective? What is the one thing that would make him willingly work alongside Loki?"

"He thinks the world's in danger," said Steve.

"It's why we're still here," said Clint. "He hasn't been hunting us at all—because while we're around, we can help. Once he's won, he'll exterminate us without a second thought, but right now, we're an asset. If the world's invaded, we'll fight back too."

"It makes sense," said Tony. "He's seen what we can do. I'd bet on us."

"But then who is he expecting to invade us?" asked Darcy.

"Given the design of the weapons," Tony replied. "I suspect it's his scaly gray friends. There's a couple of things in the schematics that would take the flying worm things down easy."

"The Chitauri," said Erik quietly. "They—or their leader—promised Loki the Earth in return for the Tesseract. Now the Tesseract is on Asgard out of their reach and he got most of their fleet blown up."

"We think it's most of their fleet, but we don't know," said Steve. "There have to be way more out there, for them to consider attacking us."

Pepper nodded in agreement. "It makes more sense now, why he didn't bring the Tesseract back to Earth. It means they might not come here after all, and if he pits them against Asgard, it's a more even fight. He's safely out of the way here. This is all precautionary."

"It's not," said Erik. "The leader will want Loki punished for his failure, or his betrayal, or whatever it was. Loki knows they'll come. They just don't know when."

"Shit," said Darcy.

"Pretty much," agreed Tony.

"So what do we do?" asked Steve.

"We finish the bridge and get word to Asgard," said Jane. "They need warning."

"Agreed," said Tony.

"We need to warn people what's coming too," said Pepper. "They need to be prepared."

"Bad idea," said Darcy. "They will freak out, riot, loot for food, and generally make things worse. People would die needlessly."

"She's right," said Bruce, who'd been so quiet during the whole thing Darcy had nearly forgotten he was there. "We can't cause that kind of panic."

"We need more intel," Clint said. "We need to confirm it really is the Chitauri coming so we can arm ourselves."

Tony was already loading programs. "I've got feeds incoming from the SHIELD servers, but there isn't anything else to get right now. If this is what it is, Loki wouldn't be stupid enough to write it down. I doubt anyone knows any of this except for him."

"There are ways to get the information from him directly."

Darcy didn't realize Natasha meant her until everyone in the room was staring her way. "Huh?"

"He won't harm you and he might speak to you."

Jane rounded on Natasha. "Are you_ insane?_"

Darcy placed herself between them. "Dude, you are totally barking up the wrong tree. I'm an ant to him. He's not going to reveal his super-secret plans to me."

"He might."

"Are you seriously suggesting sending Darcy back there?" Pepper asked, horrified.

"Only if she's willing. She's capable of it."

"Darcy isn't your protégé," warned Tony.

"We have to use every tool at our disposal," she pointed out.

"And Darcy isn't a tool!" said Jane.

"Look, I get where Natasha's coming from," said Darcy, holding her hand up so everyone was looking her way. "If I thought it would work, I'd try it, but honestly, Loki doesn't have a thing for me. I don't know why he took me if he wasn't after you guys, but it's not that. It's gotta be deeper than that, we just don't know what yet."

"Maybe when we make contact with Asgard they'll be able to explain," said Erik.

Natasha shrugged. "I was just exploring options. I could try and make contact with Fury."

"Not yet," said Tony. "There's no way Fury isn't being watched 24/7 and we don't want to tip Loki's hand. The bridge needs to be our focus."

"Great," said Jane. "We'll be needing more coffee."

It didn't stop them bickering on for another half hour, until they eventually dispersed. They left Darcy and her blanket alone on the sofa, save for Steve.

"Do you ever get tired of having to save the world?" she asked him.

He chuckled. "I don't think it's up to me this time. I think Jane will take most of the future credit for this one."

"Yeah." She untangled herself from the blanket. "I should really go help her."

Because that was Darcy's role in all this. Help Jane be brilliant and build a bridge to other worlds. She wasn't the Black Widow's protégé—not nearly good enough, for a start, since she'd got herself captured on one of her very first solo missions. There was no way she should be considering heading back to Loki's stronghold to try and trick the truth out of him, not when it was the last place on Earth she wanted to be.

But if her thoughts wandered during the quieter moments of data input, she had no control over them. Her daydream-self could be brave and brilliant too.

* * *

**A/N: Writing scenes with a dozen or so characters in and keeping track of who's saying what is hard work.**

**Also, I realised I've been spelling Erik wrong all this time so I'm going to have to go back and fix that.**

**Until next week!**


	12. Bridges

**Sorry for the delay in updating, life got in the way.**

**Thanks to my betas: Jen, Rhi, Twiggy and Lindsey.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Bridges**

Their first attempt to create a bridge was a failure, but since it didn't result in a black hole, Darcy decided it wasn't a complete disaster.

Not that she got to witness it. She was in the common area with everyone except Bruce. Jane and Erik scrutinized the data readings, she took notes, and Tony made sure the red flags coming up on SHIELD's systems were deleted before anyone saw them. There were two issues: building a bridge created atmospheric disturbance and energy readings that SHIELD were now familiar with, and the facility was also having to draw a ton of power from the grid for the experiment to work. Both served as a big red flag to their location and what they were doing—and there was less chance Loki would leave them alone when he realized they were repairing the Bifrost.

"We need even more power," Bruce said when he emerged from the lab, after everything had been shut down. "It collapsed because it just didn't have enough energy."

"I'm doing the best I can," said Tony, "but if I try to pull any more from the grid, it's going to end up blacking out towns. I can't hide that from SHIELD."

"What if the blackout had an entirely normal cause to explain it?" asked Natasha.

"Can you give us that?" Tony replied.

"Sure. Parts fail all the time."

They didn't make another attempt until a couple of days later. Tony made sure nothing had been picked up by SHIELD, and all the scientists reworked their calculations to ensure the attempt would work with the little amount of power they could pull. It failed again, leaving Jane in a foul mood and the others despondent.

"It'll work," said Erik. "We just have to keep trying. We almost had it—"

"And you'll keep causing blackouts," Natasha pointed out. "I can't keep sabotaging substations."

"We need another generator," said Bruce, "one that'll give us all the power we need."

Everyone looked at Tony. "I suppose if I built an arc reactor in a cave in Afghanistan…"

Natasha and Clint were dispatched to locate the parts he didn't already have, and Darcy was tasked with yet more data input. Nowadays she dreamed of numbers and Greek letters, when she dreamed at all. More often than not, she kept herself awake, pushing through her work or watching bad films late at night until she passed out. Anything was better than letting Loki surface during sleep.

When she gave him the chance, she'd find herself back on the rooftop, but with the steel sheets now a mile high and the flowers around overgrown, taller than she was, their stems bending to catch her by the ankle and pin her down. Loki would sit opposite her with a cup of _hunangbrugga_ and that twisted smile. When she asked "Why?", he'd say "We were just getting to know each other." Then he'd force her to drink, pushing the cup against her lips while tipping her head back, his hand tight around her neck, until she choked. All the while laughing, cold and rich, like winter wind.

Exhaustion was the lesser of two evils.

From time to time she considered Natasha's words, but the fear that choked her in her dreams made it apparent she couldn't go back there. He'd been courteous before, but there was no guarantee of that the second time. All the while, she struggled to figure out what he needed from her.

In the end, on an afternoon where she'd been given her freedom while Tony and Jane tinkered with the machinery, Darcy sought Natasha out.

That was easier said than done, because usually she found you when she needed you, turning up in group conversations without needing to be summoned. Where she went the rest of the time tended to be a mystery. Darcy did two circuits of the facility, poking her head into closets and rooms she'd never entered before, and knocking on Natasha's door. Then she approached the stairs to the surface. It was possible Natasha was above ground, as Clint often was. As Darcy wished she was more and more.

"Thinking of escaping?" said a quiet voice behind her.

Darcy turned to find Natasha leaning against the wall, an almost-smile on her face.

"Looking for you, actually."

That resulted in a raised eyebrow. "Aren't they providing enough excitement for you in the lab?"

"I'm an assistant, not a referee. Or a robot. Sometimes I think they forget that."

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Him. Obviously."

Natasha nodded. "Come on. I know somewhere quiet we can talk."

Darcy expected to be led to one of the empty rooms, but instead Natasha cut across the common room, down the corridor with the sleeping quarters, and to the very end, where the generator room was. She took them past the humming machinery to a panel in the wall, and with a delicate shove of her shoulder, it came loose, sliding aside to reveal another room beyond it, its cinder block frame unfinished and raw. Darcy followed Natasha inside, who slid the panel back into place.

"More secret tunnels?" Darcy asked. Another corridor led off into the gloom, unlit. She'd thought they were the province of old houses in horror films, but she'd spent more time in them since Loki's takeover than any movie heroine.

"If you're going to build a secret facility underground, you need more than way to escape it," Natasha explained. She pointed to a couple of beanbags on the floor, discarded coffee mugs beside them. "Sit, no one will disturb us here. You can talk about whatever you want."

Darcy flopped down onto the beanbag and curled up. Now she knew where Natasha and Clint disappeared to when they wanted privacy. "I guess I'm just still confused."

"About what?"

"Why he took me. At first I thought it was because I would lead him to you guys, and then when he didn't, like, torture me, that I was bait. You'd come to rescue me and it'd all be a trap. And it wasn't so now I can't figure out why he even bothered."

"You know my opinion."

"No, see, even that doesn't make sense. We barely talked, so I hardly won him over with my winning personality. And I don't think it's just lust either. He never made a move, which he'd have done once I realized I was trapped."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Come on, he had all the power. He didn't even have to ask nicely—he could've threatened my family, could've locked me up somewhere much worse if I refused. There were so many ways to get me to do what he wanted, if that's what he wanted."

Natasha's smile indicated she approved of Darcy's logic. "Pepper and Jane remain convinced you're hiding something from us, that you're protecting them from some dark story."

"You don't."

"I know how to read people. He's scared you, but he hasn't hurt you. You give too much away with your body language."

"So you can tell, but they can't?"

"Pepper's a better judge than she believes. She overthinks things and lets it overrule her gut instinct. Instinct is rarely that—it's formed on the clues you pick up from the world around you. Jane spends too long locked in her own thoughts to pick up on those cues at all."

"What about me?"

"You rely on instinct, almost too much."

"Gee, thanks. I think you just insinuated I don't think."

"Not at all. You're good at figuring out what makes people tick and how to handle them. You just need to learn to judge your own instincts before you act on them. Someone like Loki could use that against you."

"I can't help it. I'm just me."

"And that's not a bad thing."

"Anyway, he definitely wasn't bowled over the first time he saw me," Darcy continued. "You weren't there—you didn't see the look on his face. He recognized me, and he wasn't happy about it. It wasn't instant lust where he felt the need to scour the Earth for me. I don't know what it was."

Natasha sat up straighter. "No one ever mentioned that. He noticed you when you were escaping? Did he say anything?"

"Just 'You!'. Then Tony ran him over with the car."

"That is interesting. You're right, I don't think we're dealing with anything like a schoolboy crush. Loki always has a reason for what he does, often more than one. I've been investigating it myself, but there's nothing on any security system for any agency. Standing orders to capture you and not to harm you, but no reason why. Not that I'd expect Loki to leave explicit clues, but there's nothing cryptic either. Without that, I keep returning to your link with Thor."

"Thor's not here."

"No, but I'm not convinced he's dead either. Loki needs leverage in case Thor does return. Their father sent Thor the last time Loki invaded, and this time he's stolen from them. I'm willing to bet that casket is from Asgard. If they find a way to connect to us, it won't just be Thor coming, it might be Odin himself. Loki needs a bargaining tool."

"So, not bait. A hostage. But why me? Why not Jane?"

Natasha shrugged. "This is only a hypothesis, and a weak one. Maybe it's because you fit the profile of the young maidens heroes are supposed to rescue. Maybe Jane's scientific skills are too useful to Loki to have to threaten her life. I don't know. And I don't like not knowing. But whatever it is, Loki has developed an attachment to you, and it's not healthy."

"I should stay down here until he's defeated, right?"

"I wish that was an option, but sooner or later, we're going to be forced out into the open. I guess we'll find out what his plans are then."

"Thanks for the reassurance."

"I can't give you that. But I can give the tools to protect yourself. Steve's training has helped you, but you need more. It's not enough that you can defend yourself in a fair fight. It'll never be a fair fight. You need to know how to avoid capture and to escape when you're trapped; you need to learn how to lie so well even the man who styles himself as God of Lies can't tell. You need to know enough to not become the damsel in distress."

"Can you teach me that?"

"I can try. If Loki's play is what I think it is, you need to take yourself out of the equation. Any hostage is a distraction from the fight, so if Thor doesn't have to worry about saving you, he can concentrate on defeating Loki."

"You make it sound so easy."

"Sometimes it is. I'll train you, yes. I'll come for you when I have time."

Natasha rose, and Darcy scrambled up from the beanbag. She wasn't any more at ease with the Loki situation, but at least she was going to do something about it. Natasha slid the secret panel open again, and Darcy waved goodbye to Narnia on the way out.

"One last thing," said Natasha. "You tell anyone about this place, and I'll kill you."

Darcy believed her.

* * *

A week passed—a week featuring two surreptitious sessions with Natasha, which revolved around psychology more than the ability to kill a man with her thighs. Darcy had taken a couple of basic psych classes at college, so she wasn't a complete novice, but Natasha covered new ground anyway. No papers written by dead men to read here, though the homework—practice telling lies and making them believable—was far from fun. Especially when Natasha deconstructed Darcy's method afterward.

"Don't chew your lip. That's your tell. Hold eye contact—but not for too long. Keep it simple."

It was little white lies here and there, things that mattered to no one, but it went against her nature to make up casual fibs. Keeping it secret from the others also sat uneasily with her, but Natasha pointed out the others would try and interfere out of a misguided sense of protection. This was a test of its own: could she keep her training a secret and make sure no one ever noticed?

The common room was empty as she padded in to forage for breakfast. She had a training session with Steve planned for later in the day, but he wasn't at his usual place by the computer. She ate her cereal, changed out of her pyjamas and headed to the lab, only to be brusquely told by Jane she wasn't needed that day.

With nothing better to do, she flopped down onto the sofa and hoped either Steve or Natasha would arrive for a session. When neither of them did, after an hour, she went wandering the facility again. Not looking for anyone in particular, just a little company. She hesitated before she reached the generator room; she could pass through and into Natasha's hideaway, but it felt like trespassing. Instead, she doubled back, once again finding herself at the foot of the stairs to the outside. There was no interruption this time. Steve still wasn't in the common room—no one was—so Darcy retired to her cot to read.

It was a day like so many others in the facility. Boredom and isolation. It just felt worse because she was turning twenty-two, and no one here cared.

She was alone, nothing more than a distraction to Jane and a cog in Loki's machinations. Even Natasha's interest in her was part of some wider scheme to bring down Loki. She hadn't seen the sky in weeks, hadn't seen her friends in months, hadn't seen her mom in nearly a year, not since she set off for New York, and she got to spend her birthday in a grey-walled cell, while the world went on around her. She succumbed to the self-pity and let herself cry. Quiet tears that wouldn't attract the attention of anyone passing by her door, but fat, hot tears that tasted of salt when they reached her lips.

When she was done, she crept to the washroom and splashed cold water on her cheeks until the evidence was washed away. She felt emptier and lighter, like the self-pity had been purged. Now she just felt silly for it.

She stayed in her room for a few more hours, opting to read on her cot rather than veg out in front of the plasma screen. Then Steve finally collected her for training after lunch, and she got to spend the afternoon taking out her frustrations on a punchbag. With endorphins doing their stuff, she showered and headed back to the common room for dinner.

The lights were out when she reached the end of the hallway, and she crouched—if anyone tried to grab her she wouldn't be where they thought she was. Something flickered across the room—the strike of a match, a tiny flame—and then an out-of-tune voice:

_"Happy birthday to you…"_

More voices joined in while the match lit candles, gradually illuminating Pepper at the table, surrounded by the other Avengers.

_"…Happy birthday dear Darcy, happy birthday to you!"_

She got to her feet and stumbled towards the table, clapping her hands as she spotted the cake the candles were crowning. "You guys remembered!"

"Of course we did," said Pepper. "I know when everybody's birthday is, except Natasha's. Now close your eyes, make a wish and blow out the candles."

When she was done, someone turned the lights back on. "What did you wish for?" asked Jane.

"I can't tell you that! It'll mean it won't come true."

"That's just a superstition."

"And making wishes isn't?" Her wish was pretty obvious anyway; defeating Loki. Though she probably needed more than twenty-two candles for that.

Clint had provided pizza again, and since they'd exhausted their original supply of board games, he'd picked up two version of Clue: Spongebob Squarepants and Sherlock. Natasha swept the floor with them all, but it didn't matter. Darcy went to bed happy, and for the first time in a while, her dreams were free of both data and Loki.

* * *

"Do these readings look familiar to you?" asked Erik. He'd just printed off a ream of paper and passed it to Jane. She scanned them and frowned.

"They match the original anomaly. When are they from?"

"Last night."

Darcy stopped typing. "Do you mean the anomaly that you found before Thor felt out of the sky?"

"Yes," said Jane. "I mean, these aren't precisely the same. But the patterns—are they from New Mexico?" she asked Erik.

"No, they're from here. The atmosphere above New York state."

Jane's eyes widened. "Darcy, get Tony. He needs to see this."

She sprinted down to the other lab where he was building the new arc reactor. Even she understood the urgency—if they were picking up signs that matched the original Bifrost, then that meant someone out there was building their own bridge. She explained that to Tony in a rush, then grabbed Bruce from the kitchen, where he'd been making tea.

"How did you even spot this?" asked Bruce.

"I've been pulling all kinds of data while we've been testing," explained Erik. "Both at the sites we know the Bifrost used to connect and here. I wanted to do a comparative analysis and see if there were any changes."

"Could this be something we've created?" Tony asked.

"Possibly, but I doubt it," replied Bruce. "There's a time delay, one that's too long to be naturally occurring. It's only raw data and I've not had chance to conduct a proper analysis, but top of my head calculations make it unlikely. It could be someone has picked up on our attempts. Maybe SHIELD have faked them somehow?"

Tony tore his gaze away from the data. "I'll double check the server logs, but considering we've been doing so much rewriting of their tracking data, I don't see how."

"It's Asgard," said Jane, her face lit with excitement. "They already have the technology, so they must be repairing their bridge too."

"We can hope that," Erik said, "but it could also be the invaders Loki is worried about. What we're doing might be acting like a beacon across space, and if they're already aiming for us, we're just lighting their way."

"Then that makes it all the more important that we connect to Asgard. How close are you to finishing the reactor?"

"A day, maybe two," said Tony. "I'm doing this on my own—"

"Could Darcy help?" Jane asked.

"Well, I suppose—"

"I know what I'm doing with a screwdriver and a soldering iron," Darcy said. "My dad used to teach me that stuff."

That was how she found herself soldering for hours straight, while Tony breathed down her neck to make sure she didn't fuck up. She was pretty sure that he redid a lot of her work when she slept, but it didn't matter. The next morning, after extra coffee, she entered his workshop to find him ready to turn the reactor on.

"All we have to do now," he said, "is connect it to the other machinery."

That took a couple of hours, and though everyone else was ready to get on with the next test, Jane had other ideas. "I checked the readings again, and the ones for last night. I cross-referenced them with weather patterns and predictions. There's going to be a storm tonight, and I think we should wait until then."

"Atmosphere won't make any difference," Erik pointed out. "We're only trying it out in the lab. Even if we were starting up a full bridge, it wouldn't make any difference."

"I know you're right. I just…I just have this feeling. And look where that led us last time. This all fits. I think they're going to try to connect to us, if they can."

Everyone conceded, leading to a tense day where they all bickered over what to watch on TV, what to eat, and who cheated most at Clue.

Night fell, not that they could see it, and according to the systems the storm began overhead. Darcy imagined she could hear the wind whistling and lightning cracking, but in reality it could have been dead calm for all they experienced under the concrete. Bruce retreated to the lab, Tony sat with the arc reactor to ensure it functioned, and the rest of them gathered around the machinery lugged out to the common room. Steve was given a program to run to disrupt SHIELD's servers while they performed the experiment.

"Did we start yet?" Darcy whispered, and Jane ignored her, turning dials and making notes. Though she'd been in the lab with them all this time, Darcy still had only the faintest idea of how this worked. Something hummed away in the background, louder than the air conditioning, while Erik and Jane worked in silence.

One of the machines began making printouts, spitting out sheets almost as fast as Jane could skim through them. Darcy didn't need to ask if things were going well: Jane beamed and chewed her lip, tapping her nails as time went by. Erik was more subdued, but even he became visibly excited as the minutes crawled by, smiling at the readouts as Jane passed them to him.

Then the machine stopped. No more printouts, no more numbers flashing across the screen, and Jane sat staring at the last sheet.

"Well?" asked Pepper. "Did it work?"

Bruce come bounding down the hallway from the lab. "Does your data match mine?"

"It does," Jane confirmed, then looked up from the paper and laughed. "It does!" She leapt to her feet, dragging Erik to his and gathering the two men in a hug. _"We did it!_" Darcy winced at the pitch of her excited shriek, but bounced up and down in her own spot.

Tony peered around the corner. "Am I missing out on a hug?"

Bruce gestured for Tony to join them. "We are officially the first people to create a stable bridge."

The room was a whirlwind of screeching, high fives and hugs for a few minutes, the jubilant mood sweeping everyone up—even Natasha and Clint. Darcy found herself doing a ridiculous victory dance with Steve—while an awestruck voice in the back of her head reminded her he was still Captain America—and then hugging Jane fiercely over by the machinery.

"Uh, Jane?" she said, peering over Jane's shoulder.

"—I'm going to win a Nobel Prize, I'm going to get all the funding I ever wanted, we're going to go down in history—"

"Is the machine supposed to have start recording data again?"

Jane froze and broke away, spinning around to read the screen. "Tony, did you turn the reactor off?"

"No."

"I turned all the lab machinery off," said Bruce.

"So where is this coming from?"

Erik scrolled back through the data. "This isn't from the lab. This is outside, from the atmosphere."

"It can't be—" Jane made a fresh print-out, then flipped through her little black book, comparing the new readings against old. "Look at this. It's the same. Almost exactly."

Darcy checked the date at the top of her scrawled notes. "That's the date Thor arrived."

"Holy shit." Jane threw everything down and ran for the stairs. "It's Thor!"

"Jane, wait!" Erik called. Natasha and Clint didn't even wait, taking off after her.

Steve brought up the security footage on the computer, scanning through different cameras. "Do we know where it happened?"

"It had to be using the arc reactor, right?" asked Darcy. "That's why our machines are picking it up."

"Makes sense," said Tony. "So close by, if not on the estate itself."

The screen showed Jane being pursued by Natasha, then empty fields, and back to the pair of them being lashed by the storm as they sprinted across the driveway. More empty fields, then a scarred circle in the grass, concentric rings burned away to soil.

"There," Darcy said. The circle was empty but there was no doubt it was a landing site. Steve stayed in that area, panning around the field. It wasn't easy to see in the dark, not with the occasional lightning flash flooding the picture. The field appeared to be empty, until they spotted a flash of gold. Steve swung the camera back and zoomed in.

"That's not Thor," said Pepper.

"Not unless he's made some serious lifestyle choices since we last saw him," said Tony.

The figure on the screen was a woman. Approaching middle-age, with an unmistakably regal bearing, she waited under a tree out of the rain, in a dress of gold silk that wasn't intended for a night like this. Her honey-colored hair was pulled back from her face in an elaborate set of curls with a long braid tossed over her shoulder, almost reaching her waist. At her waist, a dagger was tucked into her belt. Even if Darcy had only ever met one Asgardian before, she knew without a doubt where their visitor was from.

It was Steve who asked the obvious question. "Then who is she?"


	13. The Visitor

**Chapter Twelve: The Visitor**

Nobody could answer Steve's question. They watched as the screen showed Natasha approaching the woman on the field, gun aimed. The woman made placating gestures, then began to follow Natasha and visibly awestruck Jane back across the compound.

"If Romanoff didn't shoot her, that's got to be a good sign," Tony remarked.

Within a minute, the three descended the stairs, trailed by Clint. Natasha and Jane were soaked to the bone, but the mystery woman looked suspiciously untouched by the storm. The rest of their group gathered at the bottom, waiting for an introduction.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said Natasha. "Meet Frigga of Asgard."

"Holy—" Darcy cut off the curse before she could finish it. "Thor's mom?"

"The goddess?" asked Erik.

Frigga replied to them both with a graceful nod, then momentarily stilled as her gaze reached Darcy. So momentarily, Darcy thought she'd imagined it. "I've been given that title in the past." Her accent was as refined as Thor or Loki's, though not entirely the same.

No wonder Jane looked like she was about to pass out.

"I have traveled far to reach you and require rest," Frigga said, "but I'm sure you have many questions."

Pepper straightened. "Where are my manners? Come on, sit down." She ushered them all back into the common room. "Would you like some tea? Coffee? I'm not sure what you're familiar with."

Erik pulled out the seat at the head of the table for Frigga to sit in, while Pepper bustled around in the kitchen.

"Perhaps a little honey in warm water," requested Frigga, while the rest of them took up seats around her and tried not to gawk like they were in a zoo. A few of them introduced themselves, and she greeted them each in turn. Then she turned to Jane, who sat beside her, and took her hand. "You are Doctor Foster?" Jane nodded, and everyone around the table held their breath. "Thor has told me much about you."

"Is he—?"

"No, my child, he is alive. Gravely injured, but he will live, and he misses you terribly."

Jane's lower lip wobbled. Pepper deflected the tears by shoving a cup of tea into her hands, while placing Frigga's drink delicately on the table in front of her.

"Let me know if you want anything else. If you want it warmer, or cooler, or more honey—"

Frigga smiled. "Thank you. Sit, I do not need to be attended to."

The scent of honey from Frigga's cup reminded Darcy of when she'd last tasted some.

"What's _hunangbrugga_?" The question slipped out before she'd thought it through.

Frigga looked over with surprise. "In your tongue it would be called honey brew. It's a drink, nothing more. Why do you ask?"

Given the way everyone was staring at her with confusion, Darcy merely shrugged in response. Natasha's shrewd stare promised she'd be asking questions later, and Frigga's own expression suggested she was also putting puzzle pieces together. Darcy should have been relieved: Frigga's answer meant Loki had not been poisoning her or making her drink a potion—nothing out of the ordinary, it seemed—but now Frigga knew she'd met Loki. Darcy had attracted her attention, and the weight of her gaze meant she probably wasn't going to escape it any time soon.

"Your name?" asked Frigga.

"Darcy."

"You were Thor's other friend here on Midgard. He had high praise for your bravery."

"Me?" she squeaked. Even now, Frigga's stare seemed to unpeel her, layer after layer. Whether she was satisfied with what she found, Darcy couldn't tell; her gaze swept to the other people around the table. Introductions went on around her while Darcy cringed at how stupid she'd been.

"So how exactly did you get to Earth?" asked Tony.

"Have you fixed the Bifrost?" said Jane eagerly.

Frigga sipped her drink and addressed them all. "We have made progress in our repairs, though they are far from complete. Those of us with enough skill in the manipulation of such things could travel, but we are few. I was only able to achieve my journey with the help of your own bridge to connect to."

"Why you?" asked Natasha.

"It was either myself or the Allfather; and the Allfather cannot leave the throne, not with Thor injured and unable to rule in his place."

"You aren't a warrior," observed Steve.

"One warrior would not defeat Loki, and that is not my purpose. I am here to make amends—I begged that Loki's life be spared, and in doing so, gave him the opportunity to escape."

"You're his mother," said Pepper. "It's understandable."

"And as his mother, I know him better than anyone. I can help you bring his end to a rule."

"Would you help us kill him?" asked Natasha. "If it came to that?"

"That, I cannot promise. But Loki is not the true danger here. There is worse to come."

"You mean the alien invasion en route?" said Tony.

"The Chitauri. Heimdall—the gatekeeper, he can see more than most—has been watching them. They head for Midgard and you are defenseless against them."

"Loki's been preparing," said Erik. "And so have we."

"That's why we're trying to repair the Bifrost," explained Jane. "Can Asgard help?"

"Certainly. If you can rebuild the bridge, you will have Asgard's warriors to protect your realm. Odin himself will lead them."

"What about Thor?"

"He will come, if he's healed. Loki was able to inflict great damage with the Casket. It is fortunate his father was there to begin the healing process—otherwise the outcome may not have been so fortuitous."

"But you'd still forgive him," said Natasha quietly. "Despite everything he's done, even to Thor."

"Thor himself forgives him," replied Frigga. "We have loved him for so long and it is difficult to let go of that. Yet I am, first and foremost, Queen of Asgard. I must put the safety of the realms above even my son, but I can promise you he will be valuable in the fight against the Chitauri, whether he fights with us or not."

They talked for some time more, the group telling Frigga all they knew about Loki's war preparations and everything he'd done since arriving on Earth. Darcy kept quiet, and they glossed over Darcy's kidnap, whether out of an attempt to protect Frigga's feelings, or because it was Darcy's story to tell, she couldn't say. Eventually, when the clock on the oven blinked one a.m., they began retiring to their rooms. Pepper arranged for one of the cots to be made up for Frigga, and Darcy shared a glance with Jane, wondering how royalty was going to cope in one of those tiny beds.

Jane trailed Darcy to her room and shut the door behind them. Before Darcy had time to react, she'd been pulled into what felt a hug from a boa constrictor.

"Can't…breathe…"

"Sorry," Jane whispered, releasing her. "I'm just so happy—he's alive!" If she smiled any wider, her face was going to split.

"Yeah, that's awesome news. Thor's a tough cookie. Aaaand he's mentioned you to his mom."

Jane's eyes widened. "I know. Like, she called me _Doctor Foster_."

"She did. I think she likes you."

"That's good. Right? That's a good thing. I mean, I didn't say anything stupid, did I?"

"No. You did good. You know what you also did today? You created a wormhole."

"I didn't, didn't I? Crazy day." Her deadpan mask slipped and she let out a happy squeal. "Still, more work to do. We have to build one now that actually connects to Asgard. Can I ask something?" she finished thoughtfully.

"Sure."

"Why did you ask about that drink?"

Darcy'd had the time to prepare for the question, even if she hadn't expected it from Jane. "The smell just reminded me, that's all. Loki used to drink it."

"I thought you barely saw him."

"I didn't. He just always seemed to drink it when he was there."

"Are you sure? You can tell me…if there's more—"

Darcy almost smiled, remembering Natasha's words about Jane disbelieving her. "There's nothing to tell. I promise. He was weird but oddly harmless."

Jane shook her head. "I can't believe Frigga forgives him, after everything. And Thor too…I can't. Not when he tried to kill Thor again. I think she hopes they'll cart him back to Asgard when this is over, and lock Loki away again. But he's not safe—he'll always try and escape, and it'll always be Thor he hurts the most. I can't let that happen."

"You're a scientist, not a superhero. Let them decide what happens to Loki."

"He's dangerous! Don't you want him dead?"

"Not especially. Thor would be devastated. I just want him out of here."

That gave Jane pause. "Maybe you're right."

"Look, this is all way over our paygrade. Let's leave the big decisions to royalty and just make sure we don't get annihilated in the process. Deal?"

"Deal." Jane gave her one last hug before leaving for her own room.

* * *

In the morning Darcy managed to shower, dress and comb her hair out before there was a soft knock at her door. It was a good thing she'd already done all that, because when she opened up expecting Jane, it was Frigga instead. Facing a goddess in pyjamas with bedhead and morning breath was not a way to make a great impression.

"Um, hi…morning!" she said, while trying to kick a discarded bra under the cot.

"I wish to speak to you," said Frigga, "privately."

And here it went. "Sure. Come in." She winced as Frigga passed, taking in the state of her room. Frigga stroked the knitted blanket as she passed, then took the chair. Her hair was perfectly coiffured again, and she was in another elaborate silk dress. Darcy didn't remember her bringing luggage.

"You created this?" Frigga said, indicating the blanket.

"Yeah. It's a hobby, when I'm not helping Jane in the lab."

"A woman of learning yourself, then."

"I guess you could say that." Darcy perched on the edge of the cot, wishing she had a mug of tea, something to hold to help her resist the urge to fidget.

"Tell me, how have you heard of _hunangbrugg_a?"

Finding it difficult to meet Frigga's gaze, Darcy stared at the balls of wool on the desk instead. "I kind of met Loki."

"Met?"

"Was kidnapped and held captive by."

Frigga's stoic expression wavered, a glimpse of disappointment peeking through. Then the calm returned. "And while you were there he drank _hunangbrugga_."

"Yeah. I had some too." Her next words came out in a rush, an appeasement. "I mean, don't get me wrong, he treated me great. The room was really fancy and he'd made this amazing roof garden. He didn't hurt me or do anything inappropriate. He'd just come and talk to me sometimes, but he always brought that drink with him. I wasn't there long, Natasha busted me out in the middle of the night."

Frigga reached over and took Darcy's hand. "Nevertheless, I am sorry. I expected more of him, but Loki does not always follow the advice given to him."

_Huh?_

"I do not try to make excuses for him, but he's been through much, and his experiences drive the poor choices he makes now. When he returned to Asgard, he bore scars. Terrible scars that should never have taken root in his flesh and yet did. I knew, then, something had happened to him in the time between falling from the Bifrost and arriving upon Midgard. Thor, too."

"So that's why you've both forgiven him."

"We believe Loki is motivated by fear as much as by hatred. His attack on Thor was a necessity to facilitate his escape, not a true attempt at murder."

"He still tried to kill Thor in New Mexico."

"True. He was not in his right mind then either. There are circumstances we've kept quiet, for his sake and ours, but Loki no longer believes he is part of our family. We do not agree. Whatever he has done, he is Thor's brother, and my son."

"That's great," Darcy replied, though she wasn't sure she meant it. What she wanted to know was why Frigga was telling her all this.

"I said that I blamed myself for Loki's escape, though yesterday I said it was because I begged for his life. While true, it is not why I hold myself accountable. I did something worse—something which prompted Loki to escape and flee to Midgard."

"I'm pretty sure he was going to try and escape anyway."

"Perhaps, though he would have attempted to disappear, rather than seize the throne of another realm. Instead he took a path which threatens both our realms."

"You don't have to tell me this. You don't have to make anything up to me because Loki kidnapped me. I came out of it unscathed."

Frigga's grim smile carried guilt and sorrow. "I recognized you yesterday."

"Well, you said Thor had talked about me."

"Yet he had no means of showing me your face. No, I've seen you elsewhere."

That look she'd given Darcy. Now it made sense. Darcy did not like where this was going. "That's strange. Maybe you just know someone who looks like me?"

Frigga shook her head. She held out a mirror—a mirror Darcy was pretty certain she hadn't been holding a minute earlier, nor that she'd been carrying when she entered the room. "In here."

She took the mirror, peering down into the glass. It didn't reflect her face, instead seeming to be covered in smudges—only the smudges were moving, shifting around and reshaping themselves. She blinked, wondering if it were her eyes, but then the image in the glass sharpened. It showed her another place entirely.

"That's me," she said, then dropped the mirror, horrified at what she saw next.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks, as always, to my betas Jen, Twiggy, Rhi and Lindsey.**

**Gold stars to everyone who guessed it was Frigga (tbh, I don't think it was difficult to figure out :P). So next chapter, you get some answers! Maybe.**


	14. Paradox

**Short but sweet this week - it covers what it needs to.**

**Thanks to Jen, Lindsey, Rhi and twiggy for betaing.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Paradox**

Darcy needed a paper bag to help her breathe. Or a bottle of Jagermeister. Or a machine to help her jump to a universe where this wasn't happening.

Frigga retrieved the mirror from where it had fallen. Thankfully, it hadn't cracked, so Darcy wasn't subject to seven years of even worse luck than she was already experiencing.

It took her a minute to remember how to speak. "What was _that?_"

The mirror rested across Frigga's lap. She polished the glass gently with her sleeve, drawing Darcy's attention back to the image it held. It played out, like a brief snatch of home video, if home video was filmed by Dali. "A glimpse of the future."

In the glass, Darcy knelt on a lawn, vibrant plant life sprawling on the edges and reminding her of Loki's roof garden. He crouched beside her and their attention focused on a small boy a few feet away on the grass. He was tiny, not even a toddler yet, his shaky legs indicating he might still be finding his feet. Beyond him, Thor stooped, holding his arms out. Thor said something, and though the mirror didn't provide a soundtrack, his smile and gestures indicating he was trying to get the little boy to run to him. Instead the boy glanced at him, shook his head with a stubborn frown, and ran to Loki's open arms.

Just before it looped to show again, Darcy got a good look at the boy's face: pale and narrow even with the roundness of baby fat, crowned with fine black hair. There was no doubting he was Loki's son. Yet she recognized those big eyes too. She saw them everyday in her own mirror.

"That's not possible," Darcy replied, tearing her gaze away from the glass. "Nobody can see the future—and that's…that's Loki. And me. No!"

"While we may wish for some things to be impossible, it doesn't mean they are," Frigga said softly. "I do have the ability to look at what is to come. It is a skill I must use prudently and frugally. Alas, what you see here passes neither of those requirements. This was the folly which drove Loki to Midgard."

"He's seen this too?" _Keep breathing. This is a bad dream._

"When he returned to Asgard, it seemed nothing could reach him." Frigga's expression turned pained, her eyes staring at something beyond the room they sat in. "He was going to spend his life locked away, without knowing or accepting love, not even from me. In an attempt to ease my own heart, to provide hope that he would know some measure of happiness in the days ahead, I called upon my gift and this is what I saw. Then I was compelled to show it to him—I believed it would lead him onto a path of redemption. Instead—"

"So you showed Loki his future?" The words came out sharper than Darcy intended. She bit her lip to stop the tirade brewing inside, to prevent herself from railing against Frigga and the damage she'd done. Frigga was their strongest ally—and an alien queen who Darcy knew little about. Instead, she asked the question that was making her do mental gymnastics to work through. "Doesn't that create a paradox?"

"I never said my actions were wise. Look at all they have caused. I thought I was showing him family, love, and acceptance—I know the last to be his deepest hope. Rather, he saw an heir, and if he had an heir, he needed a throne to pass to him. For the child to run to him, Loki must be deserving of respect and have something that Thor did not. Loki could not see that his son would run to him out of unconditional love. I failed to understand how his time away from Asgard and imprisonment had changed the way he would react. I underestimated how much he's been cut off from some parts of himself."

Darcy fiddled with the edge of her blanket, resisting the urge to burrow under it and hide from the world. "I guess now I know why he's taken such an interest in me, even if it's not the answer I wanted." She suppressed a shudder at the memory of Loki holding her hand, the day he'd captured her in Albany.

"I did warn him that he couldn't use force to reach that future. I don't believe he listened."

Darcy gave a hollow laugh. "No, I don't think he did either. I guess it also explains the way he looked at me the first time he saw me—if looks could kill… Probably wasn't expecting me to be a lowly Midgardian. Or working with the Avengers."

"Perhaps not. Even I did not know who you were, not until I met you upon my arrival. It was as much a surprise to me."

"Not good enough?" She said it in jest, though she had to wonder at the truth of it.

"Darcy, I do not know you. It is not my place to judge you, and I do not share my son's antipathy towards your kind. But he can learn, just as Thor did. To reach this future will require much work—"

"What? No. We aren't going anywhere near that future. I don't want it."

Frigga held up the mirror. "Look again. Look at yourself. How do you appear?"

Despite her best intentions, she did. The version of her in the mirror was older, and wearing some fancy silk. She also radiated joy. "Happy," Darcy said grudgingly.

"That surprises you so much?"

"Yeah. Kids aren't really on my radar and Loki…Look, I know he's your son and you love him, but I can't ever imagine him making me happy."

"I understand. You have met him at his worst. You have yet to see what he _can_ be."

"Can be? Is that a definite, or one of many possibilities?" What Darcy wanted to know was whether the future was nailed down, or whether she was free to run screaming away from it while she had chance.

Frigga offered an enigmatic smile. "That would be revealing too much."

Not a helpful response. "But see, you already thought him knowing about a son would make him do the right thing, and it didn't. Dangling me like a carrot—and I guess that's your plan here—is pretty unlikely to work too. He showed minimal interest in me even when he held me captive, so I'm pretty sure he sees me as a means to an end."

"Darcy, I showed you this only because it is your future too, and you have equal right to know about it. I made a grave error, and I am here to remedy it. All I seek is to have Loki returned to Asgard. What you do with this knowledge is your own decision."

Darcy doubted it was as simple as that—Frigga enraptured glance at the glass, at her future grandbaby, suggested she was not above meddling to make it happen. It didn't matter: if there was one thing which was categorically never going to happen, it was that.

"I'm with you on getting Loki sent back to Asgard," she said. "As for the rest, there's no decision to make. That vision is never going to come true."

* * *

**Ta-da! Now you all know where Loki knew Darcy from.**

**To anybody now thinking "I did not sign up for kid!fic", don't worry, it's not going to become one.**


	15. Distraction

**A/N: Sorry for the delay - I have a ton of stuff I have to do at the moment. My strategy is to focus on that and get it out of the way so I then have more time to write. That means there *may* be another two week gap before the next chapter, or it may be longer, it or I may update next week as normal. It depends on how much free time I have this week.**

**Thanks to Jen, Rhi, Lindsey and Twiggy.**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: Distraction**

With that bombshell, Darcy had to carry on with her life.

The most important thing she knew was that she couldn't tell any of the team. The best she could expect from them would be awkward avoidance: they'd try to pretend they'd never heard her tell them about Loki and the mirror and go on as they were. Still, they'd second guess her, and when she walked into a room and the conversation faltered, she'd know. At worst, they'd grow hostile, waiting for her to align with Loki. She would lose any trust they placed in her, perhaps becoming a prisoner so she couldn't betray them.

Natasha would see the potential in the knowledge—even Darcy knew what the potential was—but she just wasn't ready for that. She couldn't face Loki until she'd got her head around what it all meant. Was she doomed to the future in the mirror, or was Darcy free to forge her own path in the opposite direction? Did knowing her future create a paradox that would render it void? The only person who really knew the answer to that was Frigga, and she wouldn't tell. She had too much invested in this. She wanted Loki's happiness, and Darcy was little more than a pawn, a tool to achieve an ends. Frigga might be Earth's ally, but she wasn't Darcy's. At least the universe wasn't unraveling around her ears, which seemed to be what happened with paradoxes in sci-fi shows.

And Jane…Jane would flip. She hated Loki with a depth that Darcy suspected meant she would only be satisfied when he was dead. If she knew Darcy was destined, however loosely, to become the mother of his child—and presumably, his wife—she'd see it as a betrayal. Darcy would lose a friend over a choice she hadn't made yet, and may never make. _Would_ never make.

What Norn had she inadvertently pissed off? It seemed obvious now that there was an unseen being warping the threads of Darcy's life, and she'd met enough mythological characters to stop ruling anything out. Maybe if she asked Frigga she'd find out where to send the fruit basket that would put an end to all of this.

With the shell shock wearing off, she trudged to the lab, where the scientists worked with feverish intensity. They were immersed in their bubble of excitement—they'd achieved the impossible and now had a chance of making it happen on an even bigger scale. It gave her plenty of opportunity to sit and mope while she worked on the tasks they'd listed for her. Time to mope and brood, and mull over how much she didn't even_ like_ Loki. There was nothing likable about him, and what was apparent to her now was the kidnapping had just been his opening salvo of courtship. His idea of 'getting the girl' clearly involved snatching the girl and locking her away from the world with only himself for company. She'd been put out of harm's reach, where he wanted her, while he dealt with the important business. When he had the time he'd throw a few crumbs of attention her way and of course Darcy would fall in love with him, because she was only a silly human girl; he was a king, and after all, it was destiny.

Screw him.

Noticing Jane was starting to power down, Darcy took it upon herself to head to the kitchen for coffee. Pepper sat at the table preparing the next week's meal plan, idly chatting with Steve who was watching the security feeds, as always. A tray of cupcakes cooled on the counter. Pepper had recently discovered an enthusiasm for baking, which kept her busy and made everyone else happy.

"Where's Frigga?" Darcy asked, turning the coffee machine on.

"She's with Tony," replied Pepper. "He's showing her the arc reactor and they're trying to figure out if it's enough of a power source to work. She's really impressed with what he's built." She beamed, taking delight in the praise in a way Tony could never show.

"It's impressive she follows what Tony's saying," said Bruce, who'd trailed Darcy to the common room.

Pepper bristled. "Why, because she's a woman?"

"No, because she comes from a world of magic. Science should be her antithesis."

Pepper rose, mollified, to help Darcy with the coffee. She offered a cupcake to Bruce in silent apology. "Well, she's lived a long time."

"Besides, magic and science are basically the same thing on Asgard," said Darcy, remembering how Thor had once explained it.

When Frigga and Tony emerged, many cups of coffee later, it was not good news.

"The reactor just won't cut it, not at this size," said Tony. "Even the one that powered Stark Tower wasn't big enough."

"Can you build a bigger one?" asked Steve.

"Not here. We don't have the space."

Hush fell over the scientists, a cloud of despondency hanging above them.

"We shall work on refining the design," said Frigga. "We may be able to adapt what we have, condensing it to the point where size is not a constraint and we can produce the power we need."

Natasha emerged from the corner none of them had known she was in. "Stark, if you were able to build this in the outside world, would there be any obstacles?"

"Of course not. I'd have unlimited space and unlimited resources—I'd have it built in a matter of days."

She nodded. It was obviously the answer she'd been expecting. "Fury's back in jail."

The words took a moment to register, they were such a change of topic.

"What?" said Pepper, Steve and Erik at once.

"There was a rebel group in Texas. Loki's orders were to slaughter their families and Fury disobeyed him. Loki has now warned SHIELD personnel that he will personally deal with the next attempt at rebellion, and he'll use the Casket."

No one questioned how she knew all this.

Tony looked up from the cupcake he'd been picking apart. "So what you're saying is unlimited space and resources are out of my league right now."

"Perhaps. It shouldn't be. The world is in danger, we're trying to save it, and Loki is just getting in the way."

"We know."

"We need him out of the way."

_"We know."_

"If he was out of power, we could have full access to SHIELD's resources. We could build an arc reactor the size of a small town. Loki's a diversion here, and we need to focus on the bigger problem. We need the world ready and waiting when the Chitauri arrive. We need Asgard's support, or we face annihilation."

"If you're suggesting we take down Loki," said Steve, "I agree, but I don't see how. We fight back, he's going to freeze a city or two just to teach us a lesson."

Darcy swore Natasha's gaze slid to her before she responded to Tony.

"The Casket is keeping everyone cowed for now. Every government, every army, is bowing down to him out of fear of what become of their people if they don't. If he didn't have the Casket, he wouldn't have the throne. Not for long."

"The Casket is Loki's birthright," said Frigga. "Only a frost giant may wield it, and he is a jotun prince. He can call it from the ether — it's how he escaped his imprisonment in Asgard. Taking it from him is an impossibility."

"By force, yes. But I know he keeps it on show in New York, to remind people of their place. When it's on show, it's vulnerable."

"So we take the fight to him?" Tony seemed torn between excitement and caution.

"Too messy. We need a distraction."

It was Frigga who looked Darcy's way this time. Natasha was too savvy to make a slip like that, but Frigga put the pieces together that other people couldn't.

"You have an idea?" asked Steve.

"Sure," said Natasha. "We break Fury out."

Darcy was positive that was Plan B, but she kept her mouth shut, staying on the edge of the group where only Frigga's gaze sought her.

"Like it's that easy," said Tony.

"It doesn't have to be successful. It's just a bonus if it works. I know where he is, I can find out what the security is like, and you can build us some weapons to help us along the way. We already know Loki doesn't want to use the Casket on us if he can avoid it. While he's stopping us from springing Fury, a second team can be retrieving the Casket."

There was a long pause before Bruce spoke. "There are a lot of risks in there. If we fail, he'll use the Casket to freeze a city or two out of spite."

"He'll do that anyway if the cavalry arrive from Asgard," pointed out Steve. "She's right, we need to deal with Loki sooner rather than later."

"What do we do when we have it?" asked Erik. "If he can summon it, it'll be gone before anyone can make a move against him."

"I may be able to build a shield," said Frigga, "with Mr. Stark's help. Something to hide it from Loki's sight and anchor it to where we wish to hold it. It will be temporary, but it will hold until Odin can secure it properly."

"We're agreed then?" Pepper ripped off a new sheet of paper, ready to start planning. "We move against Loki."

"Tentatively," said Bruce. "I'm not convinced Fury is enough of a distraction."

"Well, if anybody thinks of a better distraction, they can let me know," replied Natasha. "For now, this is the best we've got."

* * *

Natasha was waiting in Darcy's room when she headed for bed. Any other time would've given Darcy a heart attack—the other woman sitting silently on the cot in the dark—but tonight, she was expecting it.

"Frigga came to you this morning," said Natasha.

"Yeah."

"And you don't want to tell me what it was about."

Darcy didn't bother to grace that with a response. Natasha already knew the answer was no, and Darcy feared whatever she said would just let Natasha get into her head and figure out the pieces. She'd already had enough of them before Frigga's arrival.

"You could be our distraction," Natasha continued.

"Not really. I'm a sucky liar, and I don't react well under pressure. Besides, what you're asking—what I _think_ you're asking…"

"Six billion people, Darcy. Sometimes you have to do what's right for everyone, even if it costs you. You could be the leverage we need."

"You're thinking he's more interested in me than he actually is. If you make him choose between me and the Casket, he'll go for the Casket every time. He wants to be King far more than he wants me." Vision or not, Loki would choose securing his own power over whatever he thought Darcy could offer him.

"It doesn't have to be that way. You can change it."

"He'll never believe a word I say to him."

"Then make sure he isn't listening to your words."

"_No_. I can't do what you're suggesting."

"Won't."

"_Can't._ You don't understand—" Because Darcy could see how it would work. Putting herself in that situation, allowing herself to open up to Loki enough to be that kind of distraction…and ending up the girl in the mirror. Trying to manipulate the master of lies would only result in her being manipulated by him in turn. He had charm in spades, when he wanted it, and the idea had already been planted in her head. It would feel like succumbing to the inevitable. "You think it'll help defeat Loki, but it might make everything worse." If Loki was happy in Frigga's vision, the chances of him losing his throne were unlikely.

"Maybe you're right." Natasha rose smoothly. "I don't have all the information I need to make the call properly. What I do know is you'll blame yourself for every life lost when the Chitauri arrive and we're unprepared—fairly or not. That's the kind of person you are."

Darcy knew that Natasha was angling for the full story, but she wasn't convinced she would escape that conversation alive. If Natasha thought Darcy would end up on Loki's side, what was to stop her killing Darcy outright? "I'm helping in other ways."

"The scientists can cope without you. Sure, it's a noble pursuit, but it might not save us."

"I'm sure my mother would be so proud when she found out what I did to save the world."

"Then figure out the best way for you to be that distraction, a way you're comfortable with. Aside from anyone here, other than Frigga, you've spent more time with him. You're the tiniest chink in his armor. We only need a couple of hours, and you're a resourceful girl. You can find a way to keep him occupied and stay fully clothed."

"I'm pretty sure Loki won't be interested in playing Scrabble with me."

Natasha gave her a shrewd look. "You underestimate yourself. Too often. You think you're the weak link in the team, but the only thing making you that way is how you sell yourself short. You're capable of anything, if you put your mind to it. And we need you. We all need you. Remember that the first time Loki makes good on his threats with the Casket."

She padded out, leaving Darcy to a sleepless night.

* * *

The following week was punctuated by Natasha's warning echoing in Darcy's head._ "You'll blame yourself for every life lost."_ In quiet moments she span those words around, over and over. _None of this is my fault. I'm just caught up in the middle of it, like all those other six billion people. If any of them die, it's Loki's fault. It's the Chitauri's fault. Not mine_. But Natasha was right; the first spilled blood would have her wishing for a way to change the decisions she'd made.

She was also spending time dealing with Frigga's familiarity, which was causing confusion from the rest of the team. When Frigga wasn't in Tony's workshop or providing assistance in the lab, she was treating Darcy like a long lost family member. It caused incredible confusion from everyone except Natasha, and a little envy from Jane.

"I keep thinking now she's met me she thinks Thor can do better," Jane confided one evening when they had relative privacy. "She fusses over you and she's nice to me, but it's just not the same."

"Do you really want her to offer to braid your hair?"

"No," Jane admitted.

"Pepper thinks it's because I'm so young. Compared to everyone here, at least. And Frigga never had a daughter, so maybe I'm just satisfying some weird maternal urge?" Darcy had never been more grateful to Pepper than when she'd come up with that theory. It was the perfect cover for how Frigga was reacting. Jane might be potential daughter-in-law, but Darcy was sure she was getting the full on familiarity because Frigga was already convinced Darcy was a definite.

One morning Darcy stumbled into the kitchen in search of breakfast after another night of tossing and turning, to find the atmosphere in the common room decidedly subdued.

"What's happened?" she stage-whispered.

Steve pointed the remote at the rolling news report on the flatscreen. "It happened overnight—Loki made good on his word after the Fury incident. A guerrilla army had been forming in Chile, and he wiped them out. SHIELD are sealing the perimeter."

From the outside, it didn't look like much: a chunk of ice in a forest. Only when the camera moved did she see the dark shapes within, shadows of limbs and torsos encased in the ice. _Remain calm,_ read the banner over the image. _Only traitors will face the ice_.

"What about their families?" Darcy asked. One hand was balled into a fist, pressed against her ribcage like it would prevent her heart from accelerating its way into escaping her chest. The other rose to cover her mouth, keeping her secret from slipping free.

"Not this time. It's difficult to identify people from inside that. This wasn't a warning to SHIELD—this was a warning to everybody."

She slipped away after pushing her cereal around her bowl for a suitable amount of time, to sneak into Natasha's hideaway. Natasha followed a few minutes later.

"You've seen the news," she said.

_You'll blame yourself for every life lost_. "Yes," said Darcy. "And I'll do it. I'll be your distraction."


End file.
